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writingintheshadowsforever · 2 years ago

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My Loves are Calling but so are The Angels

For someone who has been an Avenger since day one you know the dangers that came with. The superhero lifestyle after all you saw all the possibilities come to life up close and personal to your friends.

Rhodey got shot out of the sky by Vision's energy beam, and was paralyzed from the waist down for an extended period of time. Tony said it was a miracle his best friend even survived.

Pietro succumbing to his injuries after taking a ray of bullets protecting Hawkeye despite his regenerative healing factor.

Natasha and Tony die saving the rest of the world from Thanos.

You knew it was a blessing that you had never suffered a life-threatening injury, or career-ending injury. You thanked God everyday that you were able to return home to your loved ones safe and in one piece, never taking it for granted.

But you should've known at some point your day too was going to come.

You downplayed the whole hostage situation with Ayo and Aneka insisting that. You would've come up with a plan before things took a turn for the worse. Neither of them were really convinced by your words, but at the end of the day. You were still an Avenger, Ayo was the General of the Dora Milaje, and Aneka was the main overseer of the Midnight Angels with Okoye leaving Wakanda. Your duty was to protect the world and anyone who needed it. Their duty was to protect Wakanda and the royalty.

They couldn't be there for every single one of your missions, and you made it clear from the start. You had no intention of walking away from being a superhero anytime soon. So all Ayo and Aneka could do was plead with you to stay safe and come back alive. You promised them you would do your best, and you knew all too well.

Tomorrow was never promised.

Sam warned you the mission would be a bit more high-leveled than. The others you were given, and not so much suggested but pleaded with. You can just wait for Bucky to become available to go, or even to take Kate Bishop technically the new Hawkeye along. But Bucky had another month before his schedule was going to clear up. So that wasn't an option; the mission was too time sensitive for that.

Kate Bishop had potential and you entertained the idea until Clint gave you. The overprotective dad made it obvious he was attached to the young girl, and she just might not be ready for such a huge mission. You were going to have a tough enough time watching your own back. You didn't want or need the pressure of keeping an eye on a newbie who could easily make a number of rookie mistakes.

So you decided to take the risk and go at it alone. There was no other choice, not when kids were going missing, and some of them turning up dead. The parents of the ones that were believed to still be alive got together, and sent out a distress letter to the Avengers begging for assistance.

"Do we know how these guys are getting to the kids?" You asked Sam while going over what little information the parents managed to rake up.

"No, some kids go to school and never make it home, while others are taken from their beds in the middle of the night." Sam answered with a tone of disapproval that caught your attention, making you glance up from the file to see what was wrong.

He was leaning up against the big brown rectangle table located in the center of the conference. His arms crossed over his chest with his right hand gripping his left forearm so tight. His veins were showing matching the ones forming on his forehead from the scowl on his face.

"Sam, is there something you want to get off your chest?" You closed the file and tucked under your arm giving him your undivided attention.

"I don't think you should be going on this mission alone. You'd be way too vulnerable considering the lack of information, and resources. This is most likely going to be an undercover job with you having to infiltrate whatever they got going on. You would be alone and in the dark, and help will be faraway if anything goes wrong."

Sam wasn't telling you anything that you didn't already know, but hearing him list all the dangers of the mission did open your eyes a bit more too. How bad the circumstances really were, but what other choice did you have?

"Sam we already got three bodies, five missing kids, and counting. These guys aren't going to slow down or stop anytime soon if someone doesn't do something. The police force over there is too corrupt and is choosing to turn a blind-eye to all this, and the government isn't willing to do anything either. I can't just sit around waiting for Bucky to get back from his mission, and everyone else either retired, lacks the experience, or they're too busy dealing with otherworldly threats. It has to be me and it has to be now" You told him. An aura of unwavering confidence and determination in the air radiating from your speech.

You and him held eye contact for two long minutes neither of blinking, or backing down. Until finally he released a sigh in defeat pushing off of the table to walk closer, and clap you on the shoulder.

"Fine you win you're free to go it's not like I could really stop you in the first place huh?"

"Not a chance" You commented.

"Just watch your back and stay vigilant if things get too bad. Get somewhere safe, call for backup, and just wait I'll drop everything and head your way." Sam instructed, and with the way he said it you knew this wasn't the first time he had given this warning to someone. He was probably having flashbacks from his time in the military. "Promise me you'll do that for me y/n."

"You have my word" You swore, holding out your pinky. He shook his head but nonetheless extended his own pinky finger to wrap around it yours. Until they were locked together "the mission gets too intense I'll retreat until reinforcements arrive. No playing hero even if I am one."

A small smile finally broke out on his face at your little joke as he pulled you into a tight hug. Afterwards the two of you finished going over the mission, and coming up with the best course of action.

A Small Town Located in Costa Rica One Week Later

It was no longer a miracle to you that whoever was behind the kidnappings were able to avoid capture. It had nothing to do with dirty cops, or an uncaring government system (even if it was still true). Instead the bad guys were just smart when picking their targets.

The town where the kidnappings were happening was small, and isolated just on the outskirts of a rainforest. There weren't any other civilizations for miles, and the population couldn't be made up of more than seven thousand people, or maybe even less. It was hard to tell as you wandered through the town. Your first couple of days there to feel the place out, and see if you could pinpoint sketchy people.

You did take the time out to meet with the parents who sounded the alarm for any additional information. They might have kept to themselves, or just stumbled upon recently. While no more kids had gone missing in the time span it took for you to arrive. Unfortunately one more of the kidnapped kids had turned up deceased. It shattered your heart seeing the little girl with no light in her eyes, or color in her face. A calm rage began to settle over you, taking up all the space in your heart where mercy used to be. You found yourself not caring what happened with these scumbags. Usually you did your best to avoid casualties on missions telling yourself everybody had a story. A reason as to why they turned out the way they did, and why they believed in doing things a certain way. But there was no compassion this time, dead or alive made no difference to you.

These people were preying on the vulnerable knowing the location, and very few people living here made this town an easier target. Rather than a big city that had a strong police force, and a higher crime rate worth paying attention to in the government’s eyes. This is the first sign of trouble this town had seen in almost fifty years. You had found out and they had never experienced something of this magnitude. The sheriff and his five officers didn't know what they were dealing with, or how to deal with it. He sent out letters pleading for help to the nearest city, but it would've taken months for them to get back to them. With no guarantee they would even send help, so they tried another shot in the dark.

The Avengers.

You felt even more sure now that taking on this mission was the right thing to do, and worth every risk. Infiltration was proving to be difficult without a clear list of suspects. The town would see a few stragglers come and go every now and then, and some were recurring faces. Returning to purchase a few goods, or tools because they were living off-grid in the forest, and needed to replenish their stock, or prepare for a storm. But none of them really stood out to the townspeople either, so you asked if any of them were new faces.

And finally struck gold because there was one new straggler who seemingly kinda just came out of nowhere. He arrived about two months ago, and by then the kidnappings were already active. So no one really thought to point a finger at him, but he was your best lead.

The sheriff put you up in an apartment built on top of the local hardware shop. It was owned and run by a nice little family who also lived in the apartment, but had enough room to spare a bedroom. Whenever the man came into town you always visited the store for a variety of supplies. He had yet to turn up your first week there, and you were losing patience. But the thought of wandering through the rainforest for him didn't seem like the right move.

On your tenth day there all the waiting paid off. You were up in the apartment with some sitcom playing on the TV. Neither you or the couple's six-year old son was watching. Instead the two of you were playing with a few of his action figures. The boy wanted to reenact the Battle of New York, and even though he limited alien figures. It still worked.

"So what happens now?" He asked after throwing the Iron Man figure off to the side. Representing when Tony disappeared into the blackhole with the missile.

You slapped your forehead remembering at his age he wouldn't have been born during the first battle. In what would turn into a war spread out across the universe took place. "Iron Man manages to fall back through the blackhole just in time before it closes." You grabbed the figure from the floor, and held it up high in the air ready to bring it down. "The Hulk has to catch him though because he's un-"

"He's here the strange man is here" His older sister comes in yelling, cutting you off, and startling her little brother. He dropped the Hulk figure in his hand.

She dashed over to pull on your arm. "Hurry, he's shopping faster than usual if you go out of the bank. You can pretend to stumble into him from there."

You maneuvered your way around the little girl, and knelt down so you were on eye level with her. "Alright kiddo I can take it from here stay up here with your little brother."

She pouted still wanting to help, but you shook your head no before the protesting could even start back up. "You were a good kid and one day you'll make a great hero. For now though I'll handle the bad guys, and you get to be a kid. You've done enough." You gave her a quick wink ruffling her hair.

The girl looked up with a wide and toothy grin, eyes lit up with pride. Your words would probably stick up with her for the rest of her life, and it was one of the small things in life that made your heart a little more whole. The daughter wandered over to continue to play with her little brother who kept the reenactment going, but was way off course by now. From the look of things Loki was trying to make an epic comeback locked into combat with Thor and Ironman.

You took off leaving the apartment, and rushed down the stairs into the hallway that led to the back door. Going right into the alleyway where you would position yourself waiting for the man to pass. Just like the daughter suggested, you went over your plan again in your head. As your nerves started to get bad. If your plan didn't work then you were going to have to resort to plan B. Which was a lot more riskier and dangerous.

It was evening time so the sun was still out dancing on the edge of the horizon. A few moments away from setting the dark orange mixing in with the indigo sky. The alleyway was shrouded in darkness so you went completely unseen hanging on the wall of the store building. The pathway though was lit up by the little light the sky had left to offer, so you were able to see the shadow of the man as he approached your hiding spot.

He wandered right past you, his eyes cast downward focusing on the screen of his cellphone. Not being aware of his surroundings was going to cost him. You extended your hand out towards him letting tiny tendrils of electricity flow from your fingertips. They creep up on the man from behind expanding away from each other. The trap constructed from electricity took form casting a shadow of its own. Maybe it was his instincts or just plain paranoia, but the man finally seemed to realize something was wrong. He looked up from his phone to glance over his shoulder, and his eyes went wide with fear. A tiny yelp managed to escape his lips as the tendrils wrapped around his body. Pulling him into its embrace forming a cocoon you yanked him into the alleyway. His muffled screams doing nothing to help him as a patch of electricity covered his mouth.

He squirmed in your power's embrace. You let the electricity dissipate giving him a bit more freedom. His hands and feet remained bound. He rested his head back on the brick wall staring as you finally walked over to where he could see you.

"Avenger" he spat angrily.

Yep that confirmed it. This was definitely your guy, only bad guys addressed you that way. If he was some scared civilian he would've pleaded for his life, and if he was a fan he would've started freaking out in excitement of being mistaken for a villain. You were surprised by the number of superhero fanatics who actually enjoyed being caught in this exact position because of a mix-up.

"Well you just answered my first question which means we can skip all the pointless denial, and get to the good stuff." You said crouching down in front of him. A sickly smile on your face with blue sparks dancing in your eyes.

"I've done nothing wrong" he lied.

You sucked your teeth. "No no no now let's not do that. You and I both know that's a lie."

He grinned scooting up a bit more, so he was sitting up now. "You can't prove anything."

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and exhaling slowly. Usually you were level-headed and patience wasn't a virtue you struggle to uphold during interrogations. But any patience you had left evaporated when the body count went up. In a blink of an eye you were right on top of him with his body between your legs. You looked down at him with piercing eyes filled with anger. One of your hands closed into a tight fist, and on command his entire body spasmed as currents of electricity coursed through his body.

He arched his back high in the air screaming in pain. His cries carried well beyond the alleyway, and you made no attempt to mask them. The streets were empty with everyone already inside, and done for the day. It could only be seven-thirty at the latest, yet people were afraid to be out this late with their children. Because of this guy and whoever he worked with, this once peaceful and safe small town had become a nightmare for the people who called it home.

No one was going to rush to his rescue.

And after fifteen seconds of experiencing what it was like to be hit with fifty-thousand volts of electricity. The agony in his eyes started to be clouded with panic. As they danced around in desperation to see if there was another approaching shadow. He finally came to the realization

hat he was yours to do whatever you pleased to get the truth.

His cries started dying down into a mangled half-sobbing, half-choking noise. "Please" he managed to get out.

You opened your hand and the electrocution ceased. His body dropped to the ground, but the spasms continued as he tried to recover.

"Now as you can see I'm not exactly in the mood to let you jerk me around for ten minutes. I'm not about to play games spending an hour trying to outsmart you, and trick you into giving me the info I need. You're either going to tell me, or you're going to be in a lot of pain. It's really up to you because no one in this town will bat so much as an eye. If I torture you for the entire night these people want their kids, and their lives back. They've given me the authority to do whatever it takes to make that happen."

The erratic spasms had calmed down enough that his body was just shaking now. He had heard every single word, and no longer did he seem to be so confident or angry anymore. You leaned down so his face was only inches from yours. "So what's it going to be?"

His mouth opened but no words came out as he hesitated probably thinking about it. What his boss would do to him for snitching.

But his boss wasn't here and you'd bet your life that they weren't going to send in a rescue team. If he didn't return from his supply run. If anything they would pack everything up, and go on the run hoping he was done to tie up loose ends.

Your fist shot out striking him in the face. His head snapped back into the wall. He groaned in pain, shaking his head, and blinking at a rapid pace trying to gather his thoughts. "The kids' ' you demanded.

"Stop, I'll tell you where they are," he cried out as soon as he could.

You studied the condition he was in. Your tactics took a toll on his body, so he was definitely in pain. Every now and then he would jump a little bit, and the punch no doubt resulted in a headache. But he was functional and conscious so you grabbed him by the front of his shirt. He started kicking at the ground promising that he was going to cooperate. He assumed you were going to hurt him again.

You pulled him to his feet and the electricity bindings dissolved. "Take me to the kids."

He cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"I don't want you to tell me where they are. I want you to show me the way." You explained.

Two Hours Later

The man led deep into the rainforest which was vibrating with color during the play, but now at nightfall. It was descending into a void of darkness with only animalistic sounds to guide your way. The noises weren’t comforting here. Sometimes it was just a colony of frogs croaking in symphony together. Other times it was a guttural growl that had to belong to a big cat of some

kind. This rainforest was home to tigers, jaguars, and maybe leopards. You weren’t too sure about the last one, but you just hoped your powers would be fast enough if one came leaping out of the bushes, or maybe even attacked from above. You didn’t want to think of how the world would react to the headline “Avenger Mauled to Death By A Wildcat.” It would be such an unconventional way for you to die. Even in death your friends and possibly your lovers would never let you live it down. The brief thought of Ayo and Aneka passing through your mind brought a cascade of emotions to the surface. The last time the three of you saw each other right before you left for this mission was paradise all the way up to the end. Your final moment with your loved ones wasn't your best, and although part of you still felt like they were to blame for any harsh words exchanged. You couldn’t deny your own guilt in the part you no doubt played in the argument. Aneka was probably the one who could go blameless, considering she was only present for the end, and she had tried to play peacemaker.

You were lying on your stomach with your face buried in the mountain of pillows on the bed. Ayo was beside you on her side facing you with an elbow propping her head up. Her other hand drew lines up and down your bare back under the covers. Her touch ghosting your skin with her light grazing to not wake you from your slumber. Aneka had gone to gather breakfast from one of the restaurants the three of you frequented a lot. Tonight was going to be your last with them as you were set to fly back home to take on a new mission, and it was decided today would be a lazy day. Ayo and Aneka somehow managed to get the day off with the promise no one would disturb them with any guard duties. Sam knew not to message your phone till the morning.

“I wish you didn’t have to go so soon my love” Ayo whispered resting her head on your back. She would never admit out loud but since before her and Aneka saved you from those goons. She worried about you day and night whenever you were gone even if you weren’t on a mission. Before becoming an Avenger you were a Shield agent, and had been fighting bad guys for your entire life basically. Since you turned nineteen and over the years your list of enemies only got bigger and bigger. Who’s to say one of them wouldn’t just show up one day looking for vengeance. You were strong and powerful and knew better to not be aware of your surroundings. But still sometimes you exhausted yourself to the point where you couldn’t even sit up on your own, or collapsed without warning. If any of them caught you in that state it doesn’t matter how good you are you would be a goner.

Ayo had grown accustomed to having you in your life, and it was hard to go about her day knowing each time she said goodbye to you might be the last. It might’ve taken Thanos to kill Natasha and Tony but the Avengers had so many close calls in the past. Not to mention the Avengers were always fighting some deadly foe on a regular basis. What if there was another Ultron or alien invasion? What if you didn’t come back going down in the midst of the battle. The thought brought despair to her heart. Why couldn’t you just stay here in Wakanda with her and Aneka where you would be safe.

“Stay with me” she murmured, pressing a light kiss upon your back. Your body shivered at the warm feeling of her lips causing your eyes to finally flutter open. Just in time for another plea to leave her mouth and reach your ears. You barely made out the words in your groggy state, but knew what she was asking.

“Oh how I wish I could Ayo” You answered back in a sleepy voice.

“Just a little longer usana let someone else save the world.” She replied with a desperation in her voice you hadn’t heard before whenever she did this.

“There is no one else” You shot back.

Ayo snorted but gave no words.

You began to roll over causing her to lift her head from your back. You were now on your back looking down at her with confusion, but also a hint of frustration. This was a discussion you really didn’t feel like having, especially right now. “Is there something you want to get off your chest?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at her when she looked away. “Ayo.”

Ayo pulled herself up so her back was resting up against the headboard. “You act as if you're the only superhero in the world. Like the world will implode with you around to save it.”

“The world might not implode but if I retire that will be one less family or person that will be saved. I’m not the only hero left but there aren't as many of us running around anymore. Not when you got people like Valentina in charge of government enhanced people. That woman doesn’t have anyone’s best intention in mind except the corrupt people in power. Sam, Bucky, and I are the only ones still trying to protect and help people who need it” You argued.

“So every other Avenger is just doing what laying on a beach somewhere in Hawaii on a lifelong vacation” Ayo scoffed.

“No but they don’t have the best interest of the little people in mind. Bruce is running around as a smart Hulk playing ambassador with other planets, and trying to anticipate the next Thanos level threat. Doctor Strange can’t be bothered with worldly problems, because he is too busy dealing with the world of mystical arts. He only gets evolved if a problem in his world spills into ours. Spider-Man is just trying to be your friendly neighborhood hero in New York. Rhodey is too busy being a military man shall I go on? If I retire Ayo, people will suffer and die.”

“People will suffer and die anyway y/n you can’t save everyone” she blurted out.

“Well sorry I can’t just turn my back on the rest of the world, and hide out in a country whose only looking out for their own people. That’s not my M.O.” You said with as much venom as you could. It struck a nerve as her eyes snapped to yours at the accusation or insult. It was a sore spot for just about everyone in Wakanda even though T’Challa had changed the way they did things, and opened up the country to the rest of the world to provide their resources. Every now and then someone would remind them of the hundreds of years that went by with them letting the rest of the world, especially neighboring countries suffer right under their noses.

Her hand gripped your chin making you look up at her. “Apologize.” It was an order not a suggestion.

“No you started it so you can apologize first” You told her by knocking her hand away. “What am I supposed to do all day if I retire? Anyway, play housewife to you and Aneka. While the two of you are out there getting action?”

“I wasn’t saying you should retire, just go on less missions that’s all” Ayo murmured. A whimper threatening to escape her lips. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

“The world can’t afford to lose another hero. I’m either going to be an Avenger or not there is no between for me. I’m not going to be running around as a half-assed superhero.” You threw the covers off and swung your feet onto the carpeted floor. Ayo’s arms were wrapped around your waist with her face buried in your neck in an instant.

“My love I’m sorry don’t go we can fix this” she pleaded finally changing her tone. But it was too late. You were agitated by the argument considering this wasn’t the first time it was brought up, and you were growing tired of having to defend yourself. You broke free of her grip so you could stand to dress yourself. The door was pushed open and Aneka walked in holding a bag with three separate plates of food. ““Zithandwa zam I’m home” she called out to the two of you in cheerful attitude. Then she looked up and the sight before her made her drop.

Aneka moved with purpose, dropping the food on the bed and coming over to you, placing one hand on your hand, and bringing the other up to caress your cheek. You wanted nothing more than to lean into her touch, instead you tried to pull away. Her arm curled around your waist pulling your body to hers so there was no space left. Aneka wasn’t about to let you walk away without an explanation.

“What happened to sithandwa sam?” She asked softly, pushing strands of hair behind your ear.

“Nothing Ayo and I just had a disagreement okay.”

Aneka nodded with a brief glance to Ayo before drawing her eyes back to you. She decided it would be easier to work the issue out with you first, Ayo second, and then all three of you could sit down and discuss things in a healthy manner. It would probably come as a surprise to others that Aneka was the more civil one in the relationship.

“Why don’t we go outside and get some fresh air, yeah” she suggested.

“No I’m leaving” You refused. This wasn’t an argument you wanted to work out because it was recurring, and would just be a problem again later on.

Aneka frowned. “I thought you were staying the night and leaving early in the morning.”

“I was but now it's just best that I go now alright. I love both of you alright but I’m leaving now” You insisted.

“Y/N whatever she said to hurt you I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean it. Please stay” Aneka pleaded, hurt flashing in her eyes. “We need-”

“What I need is some space and you’re not going to change my mind.” You said cutting her off as you finally managed to wrestle your way out of her grip.

“When did you two become clingy?” You muttered under your breath heading for the door.

Your last statement reached both of their ears, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop to below zero. At your cold attitude they had never seen this side of you, and it pained both of them. Aneka more Ayo because she truly did nothing wrong, and as if you could sense how wrong you were. You paused at the door with your hand resting on the knob, your back to them, and tears trying to spill out. Without another word you turned back around to walk over to Aneka, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. You did the same to Ayo and then you were gone.

A hissing noise and the feeling of something rubbery slipping past your ankles made you bite down a yelp, and step to the side avoiding the snake that was either running from you, or just making its way past you. It had to be a snake and you were just grateful the thing didn’t choose to bite you. In a place like this you were pretty sure everything was poisonous.

What you hated about the way you left things with Ayo and Aneka was now you were wondering. What was the state of your relationship with them? Would they want you back after this mission was over, or would they reject you for choosing the life of Avenger over them. Part of you considered the idea of just taking on another mission after this one, and avoiding going back to Wakanda altogether.

“We’re here” the man said, coming to a stop in front of you.

You walked ahead of him to take a peek beyond the bushes, and although it was hard to make out in the dark of the night. You could see a large industrial-like building that blended in perfectly with the texture of the forest. You spotted a single door that had to be at the back of the building. That would be your point of entry.

“Am I free to go?” He asked in a timid voice.

You turned back to him with a raised eyebrow that he couldn’t even see. “Is that a trick question?” Before he could muster an reply your hand shot out releasing a stream of electricity that slammed into his body, and sent him flying back to the ground. He was still breathing but was now unconscious.

The building had no type of security or surveillance in sight. No bodyguards, no cameras, no guard dogs, or even outside lights. Either these guys were stupid or just overconfident because the base was located in a hard to find and isolated location. It would lead to their downfall if you moved with caution approaching the door that was locked. When you tested it out, picking a lock was child’s play, and two seconds later you were slipping into the building letting the door slam shut behind you.

The door led to you a long stretch of hallway that was just as empty as the courtyard. No doors along the hallway or cameras to worry about dodging, but the lights were on. It was quiet as you strained your ears trying to make out the tiniest of sounds. Was it possible the guy led to a decoy building, or maybe a trap. Either way it was too late to turn back now you set off in search of the kids.

The hallway took you to another hallway, and after that another one you were starting to think you entered some backward maze. Until finally after ten minutes of wandering you picked up on some distant voices. The current hall led cutoff into an open room that held other pathways to different wings. Standing in the empty space strapped with machine guys were two men dressed up in all black camo.

They were standing on either side with their back to you chatting in a language you didn’t understand. You acted fast once reaching them, slamming their heads into one another. They let out sharp gasps of pain, and went down. One rolled over onto his back, hands scrambling to get a good grip on his gun. Before he could set it up to aim you grabbed a handful of his shirt and brought your fist down into his face. His head snapped to the side but he was still conscious, and his gun was now pointed at your chest.

This time your fist crackled with blue sparks when you punched him, and he was knocked out cold. The other one was on his feet rushing across the room towards a red button. You crouched down, placing both of your hands on the floor palm first. Electric waves danced along the floor reaching him before he could reach the alarm, and his body spasmed as he cried out for the shock. You took the time to drag both of them out of immediate sight into the hallway, and unstrapped their guns not only to take them apart. But to use the black straps to hogtie them, and then you were off checking one door.

First glance told you it was the control room and with a keycard you got off one of the guards. You got into the room with no trouble and was surprised to find it empty. Okay whoever was in charge of this whole operation was severely understaffed. You threw yourself into the chair and studied the screen to see if the room the kids were being held in was on here. The process would move along a bit smoother and faster if you had an idea of. What direction to go in next instead of wandering around aimlessly. Running the risk of being discovered and having to fight your way to them and out. If you could save yourself the trouble you would like too.

Upon inspecting all video footage on the screen there was only one room with potential. The room was void of light but if you looked hard enough you could make out some movement, and all the other rooms were visible. So you knew none of them were holding the kids. You didn’t want to leave these guys unscathed but the number one priority right now was escaping, and getting the kids back home. You left the control room and took the pathway that went to the east wing of the building. You came across another guard lounging in a chair with it pushed back leaning up against the wall. It was a woman with a high ponytail watching YouTube videos on her cell phone completely unaware of your presence. You crept up and kicked the chair from under her. Her butt hit the floor as she yelped reaching for her handgun, but you gave her a good shock knocking her unconscious.

You moved further into the building taking a left into a short and narrow hallway leading to a silver steel door. The keycard granted you access. You were careful pushing the door at a slow pace. Not wanting to startle the kids on the other side as they were probably already terrified. The light from the hallway washed into the room giving you a view of bunk beds running alongside both walls of the decent-sized room. All of the beds were empty, and when you stepped into the room you saw why.

Three kids were gathered together in the far right corner of the room huddled close to each other. There was a little girl who couldn’t be any older than eight-years old with long blonde hair that was a bit unkempt. Holding onto her hand was an even younger girl with tanned-brown skin, and messy black hair. She was maybe three or four. Hovering in front of them was an older boy with dark-skin and short locs. He could be nine or ten years old, and was obviously the oldest out of all the kids. At least that’s what you assumed till your ears picked the smallest of footsteps coming up on from behind.

You ducked just in time as a metal rod whistled over your head. It swung with a great amount of force if you hadn’t dodged. You’d been laid out on the floor right now. You spun around catching the rod mid-swing this time, and ripping it away from the assailant. This kid was standing in the direct path of light pouring into the room. He was tall with light-brown skin, and silky black hair that fell into his dark green eyes. This one was definitely the oldest and the leader.

“You’re not taking any of them. I’ll go but leave them alone” he demanded pointing a finger at you. The kid had guts.

You dug into the side pocket of your suit to pull out a few rolled up pictures. After going through them you found the one with the boy in front of you in it. His name was Diego Rodriguez and his parents were the ones who formed the group, and came up with the idea of reaching out to the Avengers. Their boy was one of the few who went missing in the beginning, and while they were grateful their boy’s body never turned up somewhere. They were still worried about what was being done to him. He was thirteen with his birthday passing two months ago.

The little girl's name was Annie. The only family she had left was her adult sister who stepped in. When the parents died in a plane crash on their way back from a couple’s retreat. But the other two kids weren’t found in any of the photos given to you, leaving a few options. They were taken from the streets, and no one even noticed their disappearance, which didn’t seem plausible with how close everyone in this small town was. Two their parents hadn’t been part of the group, or maybe didn’t give you pictures which was still unlikely. As you took another glance at them, and ran all the faces you spent days memorizing when you met the parents. The kids didn’t resemble any of the other adults. Third and final option: these kids were taken from somewhere else and are a long way from home. It didn’t matter you were going to get them all out of here, and back home with their families where they belonged.

“Diego right that’s your name” You finally addressed the oldest of the bunch. He frowned at the use of his real name. The person in charge probably gave them fake names or numbers to try to erase any connection to their old life.

“Why are you calling me that?” He asked a bit confused but you could hear the smallest hint of hope in his voice.

“So you know that you can trust me” You replied holding up the picture with him and his parents in it. Diego let his arms drop to his sides and he straightened his body out of the fighting stance. “Your parents sent me here to get all of you okay.”

He snatched the picture from your hand, turning around to hold it into the light. His attention was focused solely on the image of his fingers grazing over his parents' faces. Tears welled up in his eyes as he let out a cry of happiness. “Ma and Da didn’t forget about me.”

He sounded so relieved yet broken, and it made you want to break down into tears yourself. You wanted to take the boy in your arms and reassure him. There was never a chance he could be forgotten. Not a universe out there where his parents wouldn’t exhaust every option before beating the walls down themselves to find him. You wanted all these kids to know that because hearing his confirmation made them perk up a bit, and come out from the corner to crowd him to see the picture. The other boy, and older girl looked back at you with a silent plea.

“Are you guys from around here?” You asked both of them.

The boy spoke up “naw you were taken before they got to this place. Where I’m from it's really hot and sunny all the time you know.”

“Yeah I know” You agreed, deciding you could narrow down the search later.

“I’m from New York,” the girl said, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“Well I’m an Avenger and I’m here to take all of you back home, and beat up the bad people who took you.” You said crouching down. Diego turned back around his eyes wide with excitement.

“You are an Avenger and I almost knocked you out man I’m so sorry” he exclaimed.

You waved him off. “Don’t worry about it you did good kid I’m going to need your help getting these guys out of here. Because we gotta move now and fast.”

“What about the guards? They’re mean and like to hit us with sticks” the girl clarified.

“Already taken care of them which is why we have to go before they wake up.” There probably were more located in the parts of the building you didn’t bother searching, but you would take care of them when the problem arose. No one was going to lay a finger on either of these kids with you around.

“Alright I want all of you to stay behind me and go where I go alright. Diego you’re going to bring up the rear.” You retrieved the metal rod and held it out to him. “If anyone shows up, take them out okay.”

Diego took it from you with a nod, and a look of determination on his face. You don’t know what they put these kids through, but whatever it was surviving it this long had aged Diego up a couple of years mentally.

You gathered the youngest girl up in your arms, placing her on your hip, and led the kids out of the room. In case things got bad and you guys needed to run you didn’t want to have to worry about her falling, or freezing up. The other three seemed to be aware of the stakes here and ready to follow wherever orders you gave them. The little girl wrapped her arms around your neck resting her head on your shoulder. The journey back was fast and quite uneventful. No guards came popping out of nowhere. No alarm went off and all the guards you knocked out were still unconscious and tied up where you left them. When the group reached the twisting hallways one of the hogtied guards did wake up in a panic. Diego brought the rod down on his head without hesitation putting him back to sleep.

You winced at the sickening crunch sound that it made upon impact. For a second Diego kept the rod raised in the air as if he was bringing it down again. The murderous rage in his eyes told you he had thought it back more than once. While you didn’t blame him in the long run it would only make his nightmares of this place even more worse. He managed to pull himself away and moved along with the rest of y’all.

Five more minutes and all of you reached the courtyard outside, and the kids were ready to rejoice, but you kept them focused on the task at hand. The hike back to town was going to take a few hours, and it wouldn’t be easy going through the forest, especially at night.

“There’s a road we could take,” Diego suggested.

None of the kids wanted to venture into the rainforest, and you couldn’t say that you blamed them. “Is the road safe?”

He shrugged, “I’m not sure I think they are used for transporting cargo and stuff, but I don’t think anything comes at night.”

You mulled it over weighing the risk of both options. On one hand you remembered the path back to the town through the rainforest by heart. But on another the rainforest held even more dangers, and you were with kids anything could go wrong. The road would be clear and straightforward, while y’all would be out in the open. You would probably be able to see any incoming threats, and the kids could hide in places easier to find instead of having to scramble.

“We’ll take the road to show me” You told him. Diego nodded and started walking in the direction of the front of the building, and your guard went up instantly expecting it to be more like a fortress.

“If we move along the trees we won’t trigger anything” he whispered to you.

Y’all stayed along the edge of the forest using the bush and trees for cover to get around the building. The front of the building was lit up with overhead lights like the ones they used in football stadiums. The yard was filled with combat jeeps, a few dune buggies modified for military operation, and cameras. Diego took a left turn going deep into the forest, and the older girl gripped your hand tighter as you followed. Her name was Chloe, and the other boy's name was Kai. He was up ahead behind Diego. Finally you broke out into a clearing onto a dirt road lit

up by the moon shining down on it guiding the way home.

As the five of you started to trek back to town staying on the side of the road just in case danger came showing up out of nowhere. You were baffled at how easy this whole thing had been, and was starting to wonder if there was some type of catch. When it happened you guys had reached a point in the road where it was going uphill. As you reached the top with the youngest girl still in your dead arms now asleep. The dirt on the road transformed from a rough and rocky surface to a texture so smooth. The other three kids started to slide back down the hill.

Chloe screamed, arms flailing around in the air as she tried to maintain her balance. She was closest to you so it took no effort to grab her by the hand and pull the rest of the way. You set Annie down beside her and took off sliding down on the hill on your side. One hand braced against the ground to try and slow your descent. The other one held out to Kai and then he and Diego were floating in the air. You cried out in panic till they started moving upward to the top of the hill.

“Oh yeah I’m telekinetic by the way” Diego called out to you. He threw his hand out towards you, but your attention shifted to a bulky dark figure waiting at the bottom. He had to be the one responsible for the ambush, and you had to take care of him. You felt your body being lifted to the air but shouted out “NO.”

Diego and Kai had made it to the top safe and sound by now. Chloe and Annie hovering behind them. Diego let you drop back to the ground with brows furrowed in confusion. “You guys go ahead without me, just follow the road till it takes you home, and don’t trust anyone who’s not me. Diego, you're in charge.”

“Wait you’re not coming” Kai shouted with a fearful expression.

“I’m not leaving you” Diego insisted

“I’m going to take care of this guy when I’m done with him. I’ll catch up with you guys, but I need all of you to keep moving. I promise” You swore.

Your words seemed to do the trick and with one last parting glance Diego began shoving Kai forward, and barking for them to run. The kids disappeared over the hill and you just prayed no one else was sent after all of you.

You kept sliding down the path, and right before reaching the end. You planted your feet, bending your legs at the knee, and pushed off launching your body into the air. Your body twisted in the air as you sailed over the figure’s head as you were coming down. You charged a bolts of electricity up, and sent them flying at the figure.

The person held up his hand and a wall shot up from the ground shielding him from your attacks. As your bolts slammed into it before bursting into tiny little blue sparks you landed on your feet and went skidding backward. You dug a hand into the ground as your body came to a halt.

“Who the hell are you?” You seethed.

The person yanked their hood off revealing it was a light-skinned man with a bald-head. A sinister smile played on his lips as he answered your question. “I’m the muscle.”

“Oh yeah where were you when I was breaking in?”

“I guard the front, no one really watches the back.”

“Shame and stupid really most people use the backdoor when they’re sneaking into a place where they aren’t wanted.”

“Stop trying to stall. I'm bringing those kids no matter how far they run” He yelled.

“Yeah buddy I’m afraid that’s not going to happen while I’m around” You declared.

“You might be an Avenger but you’re at a major disadvantage sweetheart. Your elemental power is electricity and mine is earth or haven’t you noticed.” The man did a circling motion with his hand, and rocks were lifted into the air answering his call. The rocks formed a circle and started going around into a spinning motion in front of him. “Earth triumphs electricity.”

He was right. Basic science told you as much and while you hadn’t fought many others enhanced with powers on the same spectrum as yours. This wasn’t a fight you could afford to lose. “I still like my odds” You shouted back letting the electricity crackle up and down both of your arms.

“Alright then let’s get this show on the road.” Those would be the last words exchanged between the two of you as you launched a current of electricity at him. This time instead of a wall he the rocks still twirling around him molded themselves together, and took the shape of a circular shield. The electric blast slammed into the shield causing a ripple as tiny rock pieces crumbled to the ground, but ultimately the shield held.

You shifted to the side launching more electric bolts at rapid speed aiming for his blind slide. The earth user spun his body around managing to keep pace with you, and block all your attacks. So you went low flinging an electric rope construct at his leg. The strategy worked as the rope wrapped around both of his ankles constricting until his legs were forced together. You gave a harsh pull using all your strength to pull his feet out from under him, and send him down to the ground on his back.

He let out a groan on impact as his shield crumbled into dust with the loss of focus. You took the opening electricity shooting out of your outstretched hands to make direct contact with him. This attack was a bit stronger than what you usually used, wanting to end this as fast as possible.

“Arrrghhh” he groaned as his body convulsed from the electric shock. A little more than sixty-thousand voltage spread throughout his body. His hands balled into fists and his eyes flew open. The ground opened up beneath him and sucked him in.

You cease your attack, eyes scanning the area waiting for him to reappear. It was an impressive move tunneling underground if there was a conductor present you would’ve pulled the same one. There was movement on your left and you swung out a sparking fist connecting with nothing but dust, and the enhanced reappeared right in front of you slamming a rock-covered fist into your stomach. The air rushed out of your lungs with an accompanying crunch sound. He definitely broke a rib or two on impact. You gasped for air, your powers shutting down momentarily.

He wasted no time in taking control over the fight bringing his foot up to land a harsh kick in your upper chest. The force sent you flying back to the ground rolling a few feet away. Your breath was ragged and painful as you tried to put air back into your lungs. But he wasn’t giving you recovery time appearing right above you with his fist drawn back ready to land another hard blow. You scrambled backward barely dodging him as his fist struck the ground where your face had been just minutes ago creating a decent size crater.

You called upon your power again resisting the pain in your abdomen, and created a giant ball of electricity throwing it at him. The electrical ball sailed towards him with great speed, and he started swinging his arms in a sweeping motion. A dust storm started to pick up, and you watched as your ball of electricity began to falter. By the time it reached them the swirling dust particles were so bad you couldn’t even make the man’s figure out anymore, and your attack evaporated into the air. You cursed under your breath backing up into the cover of the trees hoping he would follow. The farther you led him away from the road the better because that way even if he did manage to win. Then it wouldn’t matter because the more distance between him and the kids the better chance they had at finding help.

“Oh come on Avenger we were just getting started” he yelled chasing after you.

Knowing he was going to pursue you descended farther into the forest at a faster pace. Trying to formulate a plan because while it pained you to admit this guy knew it was right. He had the power advantage, and none of your attacks were going to have any effect unless you managed to catch him off guard first. And that wasn’t a solid fighting strategy.

You sought solace behind a tall and wide tree letting your body sink to the ground. As a thousand ideas ran through your head one memory managed to push its way to the forefront.

You gritted your teeth as you held the stream of electricity trying to overpower the lightning bolt clashing with your power. Finally there was an explosion as both attacks canceled each other out, and you were thrown back to the ground.

When the smoke cleared you glared up at the Thunder God hovering above you with a grin. “Another round y/n what do you say?” Thor proposed. Of course he remained unscathed from the explosion. Well here you were kneeling on the ground breathing heavily from overexerting your powers with a sore body.

“No Thor this is pointless I can’t control, summon or manipulate lightning” You exclaimed. “So please stop with the spontaneous lightning attacks because all I can do is try to counter it, and I’m not sure if I have the strength to stop the next one.

Thor let out a grumpy huff at your refusal to his training method. “Lightning is only an extension of your ability to control electricity. I mean there are the same elements you should be able to call upon just as much as I can. Lady Y/N can’t you see how close we are to unlocking your power’s true potential.”

“I get how you can think and yes I’m pretty sure I’m immune to dying of a lightning strike. I think that’s the only advantage I have when it comes to lightning. I don’t there’s the huge reservoir of untapped power lying dormant inside of me Thor. It would be cool but it's not plausible” You told him with a shrug.

“How can you be so sure?” Thor asked in genuine curiosity.

“Because I probably would’ve unlocked it a long time ago” You answered a bit unsure.

“Just remember Lady Y/N sometimes we must reach our breaking point and exhaust all the current power inside of us to reach new heights.”

You played those words in your eyes over and over again, drifting up to the dark calm sky. A few clouds were out and you knew from testing it out in the past. A few electric beams launched into the sky could summon a thunderstorm which would produce lightning. While you never tried to control lightning again after that day of failing to do it. The idea was a bit more appealing now with each passing second where you could hear the earth user trudging through the bush getting closer to your hiding spot.

The beams would give away your location, and it would take a minute or two for the thunderstorm to come. But it’s not like you had a better idea, and this one wasn’t really concrete considering it was a shot in the dark. And held a lot of risk with you using all the power you had left to conjure up a storm for the record books. If this didn’t work you were as good as dead, and those kids would be taken again.

You took a deep breath gathering up all the power inside of you, and summoning into your hands. In the end you had generated a big enough electrical shock to power a city the size of Los Angeles for weeks. Not wasting another second you climbed to your feet, and sent a giant beam of blue electricity into the sky where it seemingly disappeared into the endless deep space. You kept pushing, determined to empty yourself out behind a few branches snapped under a foot. He was right on top of you now but still you kept the attack going almost out, and when his hand wrapped around your shoulder swinging your body around to face him.

You tried to come up with a witty remark to stall him while the electricity worked its magic on the weather. But he wasn’t having as all you could manage was a weak sigh. His fist struck you hard in the face with a nasty right hook. Black spots appeared in your vision as he struck you again with another one. Your body sagged but the man kept you upright with a toothy grin.

“Why the hell would you do that now you’re just defenseless. A jab to the stomach.

“Powerless.” A blow to the nose.

“Useless” he sneered kneeing you in the stomach making you double over wrapping your arms around your midsection. This time he let you drop to your knees, your face bruised and battered. You don’t think you had ever taken such a bad beating in your entire lifetime, and you were prepared to just wave the white flag.

When thunder boomed in the sky, and a few droplets fell from the sky landing on your skin. The Heavens heard your desperate pleas and answered. Lightning flashed with more thunder following in its wake.

“How would I control lightning anyway? Like what is it like?” You questioned Thor after the training session was over. The two of you were lounging in the Tower with snacks.

“Ahhh you don’t control lightning my friend you call out to it, and guide it. Lightning is a magnificent power source that can’t be tamed like a wild horse. You can only let it strengthen you and guide it.”

His answer didn’t make sense back then but it made sense now as the lightning flashed again. You could feel the waves of power radiating off every bolt.

“What was the purpose of this little thunderstorm?” The man asked you again, pulling you to your feet by the front of your shirt. You grinned, spitting out blood. “I was leveling the playing field.”

He frowned, not catching on till the hairs on the back of his neck shot up along with all of his other body hair. He had just enough time to shove you away and summon a barrier made of earth as a lightning bolt answered your call and struck your entire body lighting up the entire forest in white-hot flashing light. All of your power was restored and when you let run through your veins pushing it right back out aiming for the barrier.

Chunks of the rock barrier were knocked away as a barrage of lightning strikes fell upon it. Creating an opening for a bolt of lightning to come down and strike the inside. A scream of agony filled the air as the barrier exploded. The earth user was on his knees shivering.

“How do you feel about my odds now?” You taunted him. Your entire body was crackling with electricity and it was almost overwhelming. Lightning danced in the sky waiting for you to guide it again.

He let out a maniacal laugh pushing himself back to his feet. “Okay now this just got interesting but I still got the upper hand Avenger.” He threw both of his arms out and a tree root wrapped around your ankle and pulled you down. He was taking a play out of your gamebook. You leapt to your feet and a circular disk slammed into your stomach, and sent you flying back into the air. Until your back made contact with another tree with another wave of agony flowing throughout your body.

You held out your hand and two lightning strikes targeted the area around your enemy and he rolled away from one. Throwing up a small shield for the other but it wasn’t enough to withstand the strike which tore through it. The attack was weakened a bit making it easier for him to remain conscious and alive again. You struggled to your feet and started limping away to get out of the forest back to the road. The last thing you wanted to do was start a fire with your lightning attacks. This new power was great but unstable, and once it was unleashed there was no containing the aftermath. The rain was coming down a bit heavier now drenching your clothes, and blocking your vision as water droplets held onto your eyelashes.

“Avenger stop running” the man roared. This guy had to be on steroids or something to still be so pumped. You were running off pure adrenaline right now once it expired your body was going to collapse.

The road came into view and the man had followed trekking through the forest at a much faster pace. He summoned more circular desks and sent them hurling at you. Your movements were sluggish but still you dodged each attack throwing out a bolt of electricity here and there with his guard down. Some of them struck him each blow slowing him down a bit more. The two of you traded attacks back and forth for a while neither gaining the upper hand. Until your foot slipped in the muddy ground and one of his discs caught you in the head as you went down. You lost consciousness for a solid minute or so.

When you came to the man was hovering above his body casting a menacing silhouette in the raging storm. He held something long in his hand and realization hit you a millimeter of a second too late. As he brought the rock spear up and sent it hurtling down into your midsection. Your eyes widened as the spear pierced your skin and kept going as he pushed it in deeper until the tip came out of your back where it connected with the ground beneath you again. Trapping you right where you lay and you gaped at the sight of the weapon sticking out of your body. Your brain couldn’t even register the pain, and blood garbled in the back of your throat.

You coughed it up, some of it coating your mouth.

“It was fun, Avenger but this is the end of the road for you. Thanks for giving me a real challenge but even with that lightning move. You still weren’t strong enough.” The man didn’t sound like he was gloating. He meant every single word and as the rain droplets pelted the ground.

You took notice of the sound running water the storm had produced enough room to form large puddles of water. And you lifted your head to glance at his feet to see the one on your left was in a puddle. Your hand didn’t need to reach only a small electrical current.

You chuckled through the pain with a small smile causing the man to shake his head. “What’s so funny?”

It took you a few moments but you managed to choke out an answer. “After pushing me to my extent and beyond you’re going to die by electrocution.”

He tilted his head to the side with confusion, and scoffed in disbelief. It would be his downfall as a tiny trail of electricity made contact with the water his foot was in. It wouldn’t seem like it but you poured more than a hundred thousand volts into that tiny current, and all you needed was ten thousand to truly kill him. His body spasmed for a few seconds as the volts ran from his foot up into his entire body spreading to his heart bringing it to a stop. His cries died down as his body fell backward hitting the road with a splash.

It was over.

Your body was still in blinding pain and it was a miracle you were still conscious especially when all you wanted to do was rest now. You blinked trying to keep your bearings but the downpour was still bad. For a second you could swear Tony and Natasha were standing right above shaking their heads.

“Come on Sparkatcus you can’t go out like this, not really a worthy death if you ask me” Tony said.

Natasha shoved his shoulder. “What kinda pep talk is that Tony?” she reprimanded him with a glare. He held up his hands backing away. The redhead knelt down and reached a hand down to pat your cheek.

“He is right though y/n you can’t go out like this. You have unfinished business to take care of then if you want to rest you can do that.”

You opened your mouth to ask how when you knew the kids had to be safe by now. They had to be this couldn’t all be for nothing.

Nat raised a single eyebrow at you and nodded her head at your right wrist. You looked over to see your kimoyo beads and it struck you that Ayo and Aneka were waiting for you to return. From this very mission so the three of you could finally fix things. But you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to make it home now, but you could make one last call. Both of them deserved an apology at least.

“See you in a minute y/n or maybe not” Natasha said waving. “I’d rather you stay alive a bit longer.”

“I second that notion,” Tony agreed.

They were gone.

Had you hallucinated them or did your best friend’s spirits really come to you in your time of need? You brought a hand up with an electrical aura settled around it, and sliced clean through the rock. The top half fell over to the side and with two excruciating heaves you pulled your body free of the back half. Blood came gushing out of the gaping hole in your chest, and the significant loss made standing impossible.

You rolled over to your side with your eyes closed, and breathing ragged. “Griot you there?” You whispered.

“Yes I am here y/n your vitals are dropping at a severe rate. You’re in critical condition, perhaps I should send your coordinates to Sam Wilson or Ayo.”

“Yeah you do that afterwards, call Ayo and Aneka for me and put us on a three-way.”

“I wouldn’t recommend speaking too much y/n you must preserve your strength. You don’t have a lot of time left.” The A.I warned you.

“I know Griot but I need to tell them something important in case you know. Call them please” You begged.

“Calling Ayo and Aneka now.”

The beads vibrated as the ringing noise filled the air. It rang and rang until eventually it became obvious neither of them were going to pick up.

“Shall I call them again y/n” Griot asked.

“Yes” you croaked tears clouding your vision or was it the rain. You didn’t know anymore.

Wakanda Three Hours Earlier

“Yo check it out what’s that” one of the Doras shouted pointing at the sky. The other Doras gathered around to see what she was referring to.

Ayo let out an exasperated sigh already knowing what or more like who it was. She looked up to see a blue dot coming in fast, heading straight for the training grounds. Aneka landed right in front of her and her blue mask retracted revealing her beautiful scowling face.

“What is it now, my love?” Ayo asked, sending a sharp look at the girls. It was enough as all of them got back to training.

“Why are your beads off?” Aneka asked in an accusatory tone.

“They aren't, I'm just not wearing them,” Ayo told her, bracing herself for the argument. The two of them had been arguing a lot since you left. She hated it.

“Why not?” Aneka pushed.

“Because I’m in charge of training today and King M’Baku demands to see massive improvement in the younger Doras. I need to focus no distractions” Ayo explained, resting her hand on Aneka’s cheek.

She didn’t jerk away which was a major improvement. “So now I’m a distraction.”

“Usana no for Bast’s sake don’t do this. Not now please” Ayo begged, wrapping her around her lover’s waist. She pressed her forehead to Aneka’s and let out a tired sigh. “Please do not argue today, tonight, tomorrow, or ever. I can’t fight with you anymore.”

Aneka was overcome with guilt with how tired her beloved sounded. Two weeks had gone by since your departure and when Aneka found out what caused the disagreement that sent you running. She was a little more upset with Ayo than usual as she had warned her that asking you to retire from being a hero wouldn’t go over well. Therefore she hadn’t been making these past few days easy on Ayo picking a fight at every given chance, and giving her the cold shoulder when the two were alone.

She could see now that Ayo had suffered more than enough and needed a break. “I’m sorry sithandwa sam. It's just what if y/n calls I have to take the suit out for combat training with the new upgrades. She won’t be able to reach me.”

“Oh Aneka, it has been fourteen days of nothing but silence from her. If she hasn’t called by now then she’s not planning on it. We’ll speak with her when she returns” Ayo said, voice filled with despair.

“Y/N do you wish for me to call again” Griot asked again for the third time.

You almost went but held on with the hope that Ayo or Aneka would finally answer, but they didn’t. Your eyelids were growing heavier by the second you couldn’t hold on much longer your fingers were slick with blood. From you trying to slow down the bleeding but of course your attempts failed.

“No, just record a message for me alright. Send it to both of them when I’m done” You whispered in a hoarse voice.

“Recording now goes on.”

“Hey guys I know it's been a while and if both are ignoring my calls. I’ll admit it I deserve it after the way I left both of you. Neither of you deserved that, especially Ayo when you were only expressing your worry for me. I have no idea what it's like to be on the outside constantly waiting for someone I love to come back from a dangerous mission.” You paused to take in a ragged breath before going on.

“I owe both of you an apology not just for what I said, but for breaking a promise. I promised both of you I’d always come back home safe and sound, but I’m not making it home this time guys. I’m sorry for everything, and for having to say goodbye this way. I love both of you with everything in me and I want you to know. These past few months with you two have been the best moments of my life. I’ll cherish them forever and I don’t want to die because my heaven is here with you two. Death might be peace for some, for me it's punishment. I should've been better to both of you.

I called you clingy Aneka but right now I wish you were to cling to me.” Your words were cut with a harsh coughing fit. Your throat was on fire, and it hurt to talk but you pushed through the pain. “It hurts so much but I think the pain is starting to fade away. That’s not a good sign is it?”

You went quiet for a few seconds before uttering your last words. “I love you Ayo. I love you Aneka, and I always will, even in the next life.”

“Is that the end y/n” Griot asked.

You managed a meek nod hoping the A.I. could somehow sense your movement, and would send the message. It wasn’t darkness coming to take you, instead a flash of white light filled your vision, and in the distance you swear you could hear a peaceful melody being hummed. It was calling you, and you wanted nothing more than to find it. Your wrist was shaking, no vibrating, someone else was trying to reach out to you.

“Y/N you have an incoming call, do you wish to answer?” Griot asked, sounding desperate.

You opened your mouth to answer but the hymn got louder, drowning out the vibrating on your wrist that you couldn’t even feel anymore. A sense of peace swept over you washing all the pain away, and beckoning you to follow it. All you had to do was close your eyes and let it take the lead. Somewhere faraway someone else was still trying to get to you, but it was too late. You shutted your eyes for the last time, and answered the call of the angels. The white light faded away into darkness but it only lasted for a brief second.

Epilogue

In the darkness of the night three young kids snuck out of their well-guarded town that had become a fortress of solitude in their absence. The oldest boy Diego led his companions back into the forest where they had just emerged from a few hours earlier.

One of them voiced her concern “this isn’t a good idea D we should head back” Chloe insisted looking over her shoulder at every small noise. She was scared but Diego said he needed her, and after everything he did for her in the scary prison. She trusted him more than anyone else in her life. He wouldn’t let her take them back.

“The Avenger didn’t come back, we have to make sure she’s okay” Diego told her waving his flashlight along the road.

“Exactly why this is a bad idea dude if she didn’t make it out then. It probably means they sent you know who” Kai argued.

“She could be hurt and need our help. Look, we’re just going back where she left us to see if she’s there. If not we’ll head back to town now Kai do you smell anything?”

“Bro its a rainforest I smell a lot of things”

“Okay smell for something more significant like blood”

“Blood would mean she’s dead” Chloe cried out clutching her shirt tightly between her little fingers.

“Not just injured, you know who could be dead” Diego reassured her. He hoped he wasn’t leading them to your dead body. You were an Avenger. You had to be okay.

“I bet she ripped his head off,” Kai said, a bit too excited, sniffing the air, and his eyes widened as if he struck gold. The boy took off racing past Diego who yelled for him to slow down. “I found her, come on guys, we're going to save an Avenger.”

Diego grabbed Chloe by the hand and followed behind Kai who came to an abrupt halt just a few feet up ahead. When he reached the spot he understood why just a few feet away you were lying on your side with a pool of blood beneath your body. You were too still.

Diego took charge covering the rest of the distance dropping to his knees beside your body. He rolled you over onto your back, and gasped at the gaping hole in your chest, but your body was still warm to touch. “Chloe come here.”

The blonde girl stayed rooted in place by Kai unable to process what she was seeing. His voice hadn’t got through to her till he barked ��now Chloe she needs you.” She walked over at a slow pace unsure if her powers could do you any good.

“Bro she’s dead healing ain’t going to work” Kai voiced what he was thinking aloud.

Diego fixed him with a hard look before guiding Chloe down beside him. “She hasn’t been dead for long, maybe your healing could revive her enough to give her a fighting chance. Come on Chloe, we owe it to her to try.”

Chloe nodded and placed one hand just over the bloody hole in your chest, and the other over your heart. A bright light emitted from her hands as a feeling of warmth flowed through her, and she pushed into you.

In the distance there was a flash of lightning neither kid took notice of.

Tag List: @kofforever @greek-freak101 @izrinmabel1 @verachii @mminiri @wandas-nose-scrunch @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @chatitajens @shuris3leg @aiden-presscott @deliciousfestsalad @zayswriting @mbakuetshurisprincess @ceaseanddecease @riribabymomma @como731 @liltigeryuki @readingaddict1001 @someobliviousgirl @marsfunzon22 @urfavvmiyahh @shinsousliya @purple-nugget @alistair-mooncrest @unreasonablysapphic @justariellove

#marvel imagine #mcu imagine #black panther imagine #ayo x aneka x reader #ayo imagine #ayo x reader #aneka imagine #aneka x reader

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sluttywonwoo · 3 years ago

Text

(in)convenient [part one]

pairing: im changkyun x f!reader (ft. ex-bf kang yeosang)

summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend is engaged has you lying through your teeth about someone you barely know, merely out of convenience. thankfully changkyun doesn't seem to mind.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of sex, (eventual smut)

Being late to class on the first day was not a great look. Especially as a grad student. And unfortunately for you, the room you were trying to get to was in a building on the far side of campus that was rarely used for lectures. It was mostly reserved for offices and meetings, so it was practically a maze to navigate, and the maps by the elevators only confused you further.

The day had already been rocky up until this point, and your scramble to your second class wasn’t making it any better. First your car wouldn’t start, then when it finally did you couldn’t find parking, then in your morning lecture you’d been assigned a project with a partner from your program you barely knew. You knew your degree would require a lot of group work, you were just caught off guard by how suddenly you were being thrust into the brunt of things. Im Changkyun was nice enough, at least from what little you knew about him. You’d had a couple of classes together in undergrad, but you had never had a real conversation with him until today when you exchanged numbers to talk about your assignment.

The room your class was in was tucked away in the corner of the building on the second floor. It was a conference room that was used for class overflow when the university booked too many courses at the same time. No wonder it took you so long to find it. Evidently, your history class had gotten the short end of the stick, which wasn’t surprising. Because even though you weren’t getting your degree in history, you had enough sense to know that the history programs were often overlooked in general.

Since it was a conference room, the set up was much different than what you were used to. Instead of desks, long tables formed a rectangle in the middle of the floor where everyone sat facing each other. Your professor was at the front of the room, standing in front of the projector screen as she called roll. She barely noticed you as you slid into the first empty seat you saw and you breathed a sigh of relief.

She was moving down the roster pretty fast, making notes in the margins about nicknames, pronunciation, and each student’s preferred pronouns. You fiddled with the ring on your middle finger, switching it between your pointer, then your ring fingers nervously.

“Kang Yeosang?”

Your head snapped up so fast that your neck audibly cracked, and you nearly spat out the iced coffee you’d been drinking.

“Here!”

The voice came from right next to you. You hadn’t even realized you’d taken the seat next to your ex-boyfriend until that very second. You hadn’t even realized that he was in this class.

Yeosang turned and gave you a polite smile of acknowledgement before returning his attention to your professor. You remained frozen in place until she called your name. Only then did you relax the tiniest fraction to tell her you were present.

You had to drop this class. You couldn’t spend an entire semester in the same room as Kang Yeosang, let alone spend it sitting right next to him. But you needed the course to graduate... maybe you could take it another semester- your train of thought was interrupted by your professor, who had introduced herself as Dr. Bender, instructing everyone to partner up for a ‘quick exercise’. You could weigh the pros and cons of dropping the class later. First, you needed to focus on finding a partner nearby who wasn’t-

“Want to be partners?” Yeosang’s voice was the last thing you wanted to hear, but you couldn’t just ignore him. Well, you could, but you didn’t want to seem like you were still bitter over the breakup that happened almost two years ago even though you absolutely were.

A quick glance to his left indicated that the girl on the other side of him had already grouped up with the guy on her left, leaving you as the only option. It was a relief to know that he wasn’t singling you out on purpose, not that he was the kind of person to do that anyway. Yeosang was a decent guy, your relationship had just ended badly with a lot of heartbreak on your end.

You weren’t sure if it was fair to hold that against him after so much time had passed, but you couldn’t help it. Just looking at him threatened to bring up those feelings you had worked so hard to suppress. That’s why you had deleted every trace of him from your phone. All of your messages, pictures, everything had been erased so you wouldn’t have to be reminded of him. It was probably all still there somewhere in the cloud, but you weren’t planning on searching for it any time soon.

“Sure,” you answered reluctantly.

By now, the person to your right had also partnered up leaving you with no other choice.

“What do we have to do?”

“Dr. Bender put up some questions on the projector for us to answer. We’re supposed to get to know each other and then I think we have to share something we learned about the other person when the timer runs out.”

“This is a graduate level course, right?” you asked, feeling mildly annoyed that you were spending your time doing this instead of something productive. Even going over the syllabus would be less painful.

Yeosang chuckled half-heartedly and shrugged. “She said her classes are always really close with each other by the end of the semester, so we’ll probably be doing this sort of thing a lot.”

“Did she say all of this before I got here or was I just not listening?”

“Mix of both, I think.” He had the audacity to smirk before clearing his throat and looking back up at the screen. “We should probably get to the questions.”

You nodded in agreement and turned to look at the screen, careful not to brush up against him in the process. The questions were all typical icebreakers, asking about pets, favorite colors, program of study, things you and Yeosang already knew about each other.

He seemed to make the realization at the same time you did because he murmured a quiet “oh” under his breath and scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

You tried to diffuse the awkwardness. “I don’t suppose your favorite show has changed since...” but you trailed off, unable to bring yourself to say it.

“Nope, it’s still New Girl,” he answered, saving you from yourself.

You were the one who had introduced him to New Girl and now you couldn’t even watch it anymore because you associated it with him. One of the many things Kang Yeosang had ruined for you.

“So I guess not much has changed,” you said quietly.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-” he paused suddenly, eyes widening. “You’re engaged too?”

You followed his gaze down to your hand, not having realized you had still been playing with your ring. The one that was sitting on your left ring finger.

It didn’t even look like an engagement ring, at least not really. It was a gold band with a dark green opal embedded in the center— okay maybe it did look a little bit like an engagement ring considering so many people were moving away from the traditional diamonds and silver… curse those newaged trendy indie jewelers.

You were about to deny it, clarify that you usually wore it on your middle finger, but then it dawned on you. Yeosang had asked if you were engaged too, meaning also, which implied that he was engaged. This was news to you. You didn’t even know he was dating anyone.

The truth was, you hadn’t had a long-term partner since Yeosang. You had gone on a few dates, had a couple of flings, but nothing stuck. It was embarrassing to know that your ex had gone off and found someone else, someone better, and was fully in love and committed to them while you seemed to be exactly where he’d left you.

So you lied.

“Yes,” you said as confidently as possible, hoping he wouldn’t ask any further questions.

He beamed. “Congrats! I’m so happy you’ve found someone!”

“Likewise,” you agreed stiffly, and against your better judgment, “who’s the lucky lady?”

“Her name is Jiwoo. I think you’d really like her!”

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes. What was it with men and thinking all of the women in their lives would get along? Especially an ex-partner and a current partner? You nodded instead.

“What about you?” Yeosang asked. “Who has the pleasure of being your fiance?”

Fuck. You should have known he’d throw the ball back in your court after that question. Your curiosity had gotten the best of you once again.

At that very moment, your phone vibrated on the table, lighting up with a text notification from your project partner. His name slipped out of your mouth before you even realized what you were saying.

“Im Changkyun.”

You snatched your phone off the desk, hoping Yeosang hadn’t seen the text. Otherwise he might wonder why you had your supposed fiance saved under such a formal name in your contacts. The text he’d sent was even more damning. It read: hey this is changkyun just making sure i have the right number?

“I’ve seen him around,” Yeosang murmured, suddenly seeming less enthusiastic than he had just a moment ago. “Nice guy.”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s great.”

Guilt twisted in your gut. You shouldn’t have lied to your ex boyfriend, even if you were just trying to save face. You shouldn’t have dragged Changkyun’s name into it either. You were relieved Yeosang didn’t seem to know him that well, but now he was permanently tied to you in some stranger’s head. Well, you definitely couldn’t drop this class now. He would know it was because of him if you did. You would just have to remember to wear your ring every day, and maybe it wouldn’t come up again.

“Hey, you and Changkyun should come to dinner with Jiwoo and I on Friday night!” Yeosang suggested. “We were planning to check out one of the new restaurants downtown. It could be a double date.”

“Yeah, that sounds great!”

What was wrong with you? Literally what the fuck was wrong with you? Later you’d tell him you came down with something- Changkyun came down with something and you would have to stay home. But then he might try to reschedule, fuck. Were you really going to have to orchestrate an elaborate breakup with your fake fiance to avoid coming clean to your ex-boyfriend? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“Great, I’ll text you the details tonight. I still have your number.”

“Will uh, Jiwoo be okay with it?” you asked, hoping for a way out. “Seeing as we’re exes and all?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not! She’s still friends with her last ex-girlfriend, and we’re both engaged to other people now.”

“Okay, cool.”

It was not cool, but it was too late now. Now you had to play the long game, pretend like you were actually going to go through with it and then cancel at the last minute.

Before you had any more time to stress over the hole you’d dug yourself into, Dr. Bender was regrouping the class and asking students to share what they had learned about each other from the exercise. You already knew what Yeosang was going to say once she got to you two.

You wanted to bolt as soon as class ended, but Yeosang caught up with you before you could slip away. He just so happened to be parked in the same garage as you so you walked the half-mile, uphill path together.

Yeosang had wanted to be friends after your breakup. He said that he still wanted you in his life, that you were important to him, etc. etc.. But you didn’t think you’d be able to stomach it, especially not so soon after the relationship was over. No, you needed a clean break. Yeosang was upset, but he understood. And you got what you wanted, until now, that is.

You supposed that Yeosang got what he wanted in the end. He chatted happily to you about the other classes he was taking as you walked together. You tried to listen, but your mind was racing.

“Where are you parked?” Yeosang asked once you reached the garage.

“Fourth floor,” you sighed.

“Hey, me too!” he exclaimed brightly. “What a coincidence.”

You faked a smile and followed him diligently up the flights of stairs, only pausing to catch your breath once. You were both breathing hard by the time you made it to the top and a single glance at Yeosang brought you back to all of those nights you spent in bed together, tangled in the sheets, whispering and giggling as you came down.

You forced yourself to look away, nostalgia getting the better of you.

“See you Wednesday, I guess?” he asked, hopeful.

“I thought we were getting together on Friday.”

“Yeah, but we have class again before then.”

Right. You’d forgotten that this stupid class was twice a week. You’d have to put up with him, play nice, pretend you were fucking engaged twice a week.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” you said finally, nodding as you spoke. “I’ll see you then.”

You were all too ready to part ways, keys already in your hands. You breathed a sigh of relief when you got into your car, slumping down into your seat with your face in your hands. That had been the longest two hours of your life. Having to repeat it twice a week for an entire semester was going to be hell.

You don’t text Changkyun back. Not right away, at least. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what to say to him. Do you tell him what you’d said to Yeosang? Obviously, right? It’d be wrong not to. But how were you just supposed to mention it casually- like, “oh yeah, by the way, I know this is the first time we’re having a real conversation, but I told my ex we’re engaged”. He would definitely ask your professor to switch partners. You couldn’t even blame him because you’d do the same thing if a stranger slash acquaintance used you as their fake fiance without asking first.

Just the thought of having the conversation filled your chest with dread. So you didn’t message him back. Not until it was almost midnight and you were laying in bed and you remembered that you had left him hanging.

You stared at his message before typing out your answer.

Im Changkyun: hey this is changkyun just making sure i have the right number?

It shouldn’t have been so hard to respond. Yet it had taken you half a day just to get the guts to send a reply. You hoped Changkyun didn’t think you were ignoring him on purpose, even though you technically were.

Y/n: this is y/n! sorry for getting back to you so late.

You locked your phone and set it on your bedside table, just for it to light up with a notification a moment later. You were surprised Changkyun was so quick to respond, especially considering you had blown him off for so long. But then again, it wasn’t as if you were teenagers in a “talking” stage. You were colleagues in an academic setting. There wasn’t a reason to play the waiting game- unless of course you were avoiding him because you had accidentally roped him into a lie about your romantic life.

Im Changkyun: no worries! When should we meet to discuss everything? The first segment of our assignment is due in a week.

Y/n: Wednesday maybe? I have another class after ours but I’m free the rest of the day.

Im Changkyun: perfect. wanna meet at one of our apartments? the library’s always full of undergrads

Y/n: we were literally undergrads not that long ago

Im Changkyun: and now we’re grad students so that automatically makes us better than them

Y/n: :/

Im Changkyun: i’m kidding. mostly.

Y/n: are you though?

Im Changkyun: 50/50

You laughed, nearly forgetting the mess you’d gotten yourself into with this man. At least he was easy to talk to. That might make the whole thing easier. Maybe he wouldn’t take it too bad.

Y/n: we can meet at my apartment if you want. i don’t have roommates so we won’t have to worry about taking up space.

Im Changkyun: i don’t have roommates either! we could do your place this time and mine the next time? if that works for you?

If there was a next time.

Y/n: sounds good. see you wednesday.

Wednesday came far too soon for your liking. You didn’t feel prepared for anything you had to do today. You’d been unable to focus on anything except for how you were going to explain your situation to Changkyun.

You didn’t absorb anything from last night’s reading, no matter how many times your eyes ran over the page. Even skimming the article again before class wasn’t helpful, but luckily you were able to coast through the lecture without being called on.

You didn’t have to speak to Changkyun or Yeosang in class, aside from exchanging pleasantries with both of them and then walking to the parking garage again with Yeosang, which you considered to be a blessing. The last thing you needed was another opportunity to dig yourself into a grave by opening your big mouth.

Changkyun was set to arrive around eight, and you spent all afternoon cleaning your apartment in an attempt to make it presentable. You had just moved in, so it wasn’t that messy, but you had nothing else to channel your nervous energy into so you scrubbed the kitchen sink three times until your sponge frayed and swept the floor until your back hurt from bending over to pick up the dustpan.

You cooked yourself dinner, leaving a little extra tortellini in the pot on the stove in case Changkyun got hungry while he was over. It was the polite thing to do, right? People did that... or was it crazy? Was it weird to plan ahead for something that might not even happen? Well it was too late, because you were full and you didn’t want to put the food away because then you’d have dirty dishes in the sink you’d just cleaned and then he’d see them and-

A knock on your door startled you out of your spiraling and you shuffled over to open it as fast as you could so that you could go ahead and get it over with.

Changkyun was dressed down in a black tee and sweats, similar to what you were wearing. His long black hair was tucked behind his ear on one side, showing off the clear frames of his glasses. All those years sharing a classroom with him and you never noticed how handsome he was. Fuck. That was just going to make this harder to endure.

You invited him in and told him that he could set his things on the dining table.

“It smells good in here,” he complimented, taking a seat next to the empty chair where he’d placed his backpack.

“Thank you, I just finished with dinner,” you explained. “I made too much. Do you want some?”

He shook his head politely. “I just ate too, but thank you. Depending on how long we’re here for, though, I might take you up on it later.”

You nodded, pleased with his ‘maybe’ response.

“Let me just put the rest away then so it’s not sitting out. You can, uh, pull up the instructions for our first assignment if you want.”

“Good idea, I’ll do that.”

You busied yourself with finding a tupperware container for the pasta while Changkyun pulled his laptop out of his bag and booted it up. You reluctantly placed the now-empty dishes in the sink and filled them with water to soak.

He moved his backpack to one of the chairs at the end of the table so that you could sit next to him and see his computer screen. He already had the document opened for you to go over together, and when you sat down he pushed the laptop closer to the middle so that you would both be able to have a good view.

The project was fairly straightforward, though it would be a good amount of work. It involved a fifteen to twenty page theoretical dissection of the topic of choice and then a presentation in front of your entire class at the end of the semester. You were feeling lightheaded just looking at it but Changkyun just smiled and kept scrolling.

The first section of the project that was due next week was the topic selection and proof of preliminary research.

“That seems easy enough,” Changkyun said, folding his arms across his chest. He looked to you for validation and you nodded in agreement. “We can think about topics over the weekend and then reconvene? Unless you wanted to start now.”

“About that,” you mumbled, figuring you needed to rip the bandaid off sooner or later. You didn’t want to waste Changkyun’s time working on the project in case he wanted nothing to do with you after you broke the news. So you’d tell him first, then you could discuss topic choices if he didn’t file a restraining order. “Do you know Kang Yeosang?”

“Kind of, why?”

Changkyun listened to you ramble until the very end, and he was still there by the time you were finished explaining- which you took to be a good sign, unless he was just waiting for the opportunity to cuss you out.

“Is that it?” he asked, seemingly unfazed by everything he had just heard.

“Um, yeah, I think so. And like I said, I’m so sorry! It was totally unintentional. Your name just happened to pop up at the wrong time. I know I shouldn’t have even lied in the first place but-”

“So all I have to do is show up to dinner on Friday?” he asked, interrupting your spiraling.

“What, no! No, no, you don’t have to do that. I was just going to tell Yeosang you weren’t feeling well and that we couldn’t come,” you rushed to explain, feeling even more embarrassed at how convoluted this whole thing was.

“Why would you do that?”

You sighed, laying your head on the table in defeat. “To save myself from the humiliation of telling the truth.”

“No, I mean, why wouldn’t we just go anyway? Prove to the guy you’ve moved on, and that you’re better off without him? Isn’t that what you want?”

You turned your head to the side so that you could look at him, gauge his reactions. “Yeah, I guess. But we barely know each other. I don’t expect you to do all of that for me. I couldn’t ask you to do something like that.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

He was fucking with you. He had to be.

“You’re serious? You’d really pretend to be my fiance?”

“Sure, why not? Sounds like it could be a good time.”

You wanted to laugh. Pretending to be a stranger’s fiancé didn’t sound like your idea of fun, but to each their own.

“Oh my god, you mean it? Because that would be great. You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

“I mean it.”

“Wow, thank you. Um, how can I repay you? Other than buying your dinner, of course.”

“You don’t have to buy my dinner.”

“It’s literally the least I could do.”

“If I’m your fiancé, shouldn’t I be buying your dinner?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“First of all, you’re the one doing the favor for me, so I’m buying your meal. Second of all, just because you’re the man doesn’t mean you need to pay for your partner all of the time.”

“I never said anything about being a man, though I am a little traditional in that sense, I guess. I just like to provide for my partners, is that so wrong?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “I guess not. I'm paying for dinner though. End of story.”

“We’ll see,” he replied through a grin.

“But aside from that, I could do most of the legwork on our project, if you want.”

“What, no. Why would I want you to do that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. In my experience with group work, no one really wants to contribute so I end up doing most of it anyway. I didn’t see this being any different and figured I might as well give you an out, since you’re doing me this favor and all.”

“So that’s what you think of me, huh?” You could tell he was offended even though he was trying to play it off like a joke.

“That’s not it,” you explained, trying to backpedal. “We don’t really know each other and I just assumed it’d be like every other group project.”

“Well, that’s not the case. I’m not going to let you do all of the work, even if that’s what you were secretly hoping for.”

It was your turn to be offended. “Why would I-”

Changkyun scoffed. “Please, you’re trying to tell me that you don’t like being in creative control? That you don’t actually prefer to work alone?”

You narrowed your eyes at your newly acquainted partner. “Are you calling me a control freak?”

“I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes to match your glare. It was silent between the two of you for a solid thirty seconds and you started to panic, thinking that all of this had been a terrible, terrible idea before Changkyun broke into a smile all of the sudden. “I think this will work. The chemistry’s there.”

“I- wha- okay,” you stammered, still recovering from the whiplash. “Then what do you want in return?”

“I’ll have to think about it and get back to you.”

Then you watched him check his watch and stand to pack his things. “I’ve gotta run, but we can meet at my place next time. I’ll pick you up on Friday so we can arrive at the restaurant together.”

“Okay.”

“Just text me the time, okay?”

“Okay.”

He was at the door now, backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Wait-” you exclaimed suddenly, reaching out for him but not touching him. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Did you want that pasta?”

i'm so excited to finally be posting this!! also sorry to yeosang for making him the ex ;-; i love him but someone needed to take the hit... anyway lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove @tantofaz123-blog @lee-hjyjn @ateez-star @baesgyus @likexaxdaydream @sunniesoobin @thefairwhitelight @pretty-thoughts @yutayoongi @redamancygnf @hoe4wonwoo @yeostars @i-might-be-in-love-with-hao @camrenrodrigoswift @nichobins @bfwonu @arikimtanapon @ammcg0119 @redspider267 @fwess @horangipowerr @soobzao @kuleo26 @k00kiemonster99 @poutypoutybin @jeonghanspinkhair @jadiekinzz @yo0nspoon @djj6112 @drama-1998-girl @kjdlashes @5xiang @yeritheloml @slut4seokjin @nc-teen @jungkookswife24069 @tannieflix @romromthedeer @urvashi435 @aurumness @noraehey @sunghoonth @y00nzin0 @ksy-horanghae @enhacolor @haogyuslut @crushonwoo @rinshabitat @ivivz @sweetgyus @fiseealamode @hotgirlmingyu

(in)convenient tags: @crushonwoo @amiga-qmilagraso (also tagging @crimsoncauldron bc ik she's always in changkyunrot)

add yourself to my taglist here!!

#(in)convenient #changkyun x reader #im changkyun x reader #im x reader #im changkyun x female reader #changkyun x female reader #changkyun x bi!reader #monsta x x reader #monsta x x female reader #monsta x series #changkyun series

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punchdrunkdoc · 2 years ago

Text

Part 2, Chapter 4

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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TW: mention of suicide

————–

PART 2

Chapter 4

Matt spent the rest of the week trying something new.

Instead of scouring the city for dealers and information about the new drug, he started searching for victims instead. He followed ambulances and cop cars as they raced to the scenes of crimes; he scoped out hospitals and psychiatric facilities. He even visited morgues in the dead of night.

And he let his nose guide him.

If there was no sign of the drug, he moved on. But if there was a sign - if he picked up the tell-tale acrid sent of the mystery compound - he detailed the nature of the crime or the medical condition of the person affected.

And a pattern began to emerge - at least, according to Karen.

“There’s a clear clustering of cases,” she explained. The three of them - Matt, Karen and Foggy - were bent over a map of Hell’s Kitchen laid out on the conference table in their office. She’d marked all known incidences of the drug on the map and coded them with coloured pins: green for self harm, red for aggression or violence, and blue for medical illness. “You first started coming across this drug along the pier. But then it moved inland. Margaret was dosed near Balsley Park, but then the next set of victims were south of 49th street.”

Matt tried to visualise the spread of cases as Karen talked. He only ever viewed Hell’s Kitchen from the street level - or more accurately, the rooftop level. The city to him was a vertical jungle, a labyrinth of towers and negative spaces spread out before him.

So he flipped that view 90 degrees, until he was looking down, the maze becoming an orderly grid. And he started to see the pattern. “It’s almost a rectangle.”

“Yes!” Karen replied. “I mean, apart from a few outliers, that’s the way it’s looking.”

“Which means, the next set of cases will be in the vicinity of the convention centre.” Matt’s heart started pounding with anticipation. After weeks and weeks of fruitless searches and dead ends, he finally felt like he was on to something.

Until Foggy dumped a bucket of metaphorical cold water over his theory. “Or it could be further south, outside Hell’s kitchen. Or west. Or somewhere completely random. We don’t have enough information to make that call.”

“Foggy’s right,” Karen said. “We need more data.”

“More victims, you mean,” Matt growled. “More innocent people being dosed against their will.” He slapped his hands against the table in frustration and started pacing. “How long am I supposed to just stand around and catalogue all this without doing something.”

“You are doing something,” Foggy protested. “Because of all this cataloguing - as you call it - we’re miles closer to solving this thing. And it is we, Matt. You’re not in this alone.”

It was true. While he was finding cases by hunting through the city at night, Karen and Foggy we’re trawling through news reports and hitting up their sources in the police precinct and emergency departments.

Calina was helping too. She was using her considerable intellect and research skills to learn about biochemistry and something called pharmacodynamics in order to try to determine the nature of the drug.

Maybe it was time to bring the whole group together on this.

“We should continue this at my place tomorrow. Calina…she’s, um, been working on this too.”

He sensed Foggy and Karen exchange a look, but he didn’t know how to interpret it. Were they apprehensive about spending time with an ex-Widow? Or were they looking forward to meeting her - Karen for the first time, and Foggy for the first time properly?

Either way, they agreed to his suggestion, and the plan was set for them all to reconvene at his place in 24 hours. And Matt was left to spend another night on the streets as a passive observer of the horrendous violation that was taking place in his city - reduced to logging the details of the crimes that he should be stopping.

He hated it.

Even though he understood the necessity, he still hated it.

And he wasn’t the only one railing against the unfairness of their situation. When he landed on his rooftop past midnight, he found Calina pacing the shadowed concrete space.

And he was instantly concerned about what it meant. “Did you have a nightmare?” he asked. She hadn’t had a bad dream - as far as he knew - all week. Not since the night he’d slept apart from her.

Since then, they’d shared the bed every night. There were no more shy invitations from her, or anxious deliberations on his part. It was just an unspoken arrangement - when he came home after patrolling, he stripped out of his Daredevil suit, put on a fresh t-shirt and sweats, and slid into his side of the bed.

She’d usually be awake, hovering on the edge of awareness, as if waiting for him to return before succumbing to sleep. And she usually succumbed pretty quickly once he was beside her.

As did he.

And they both slept soundly and peacefully through the night, neither plagued by nightmares or insomnia.

They would start the night on their respective sides of the bed, but when they woke in the morning, he was usually holding her, spooned up close behind her with his arm around her waist and one leg wedged between hers.

That was another unspoken thing they steered clear of discussing.

“No,” Calina relied softly. “No nightmare.”

“So what’s wrong?” He took off his mask and smoothed down his hair. Then he sat beside her on the metal vent.

She shrugged. “I guess I was just feeling cooped up. I haven’t left the apartment in seven days. I needed some air.”

It was a reasonable explanation - God knows, he would be climbing the walls in her place. “I know it sucks. But its the safest option-”

“For how long?” There was a bite of anger in her voice. “How long am I supposed to hide away from the world?”

“You know Yelena and the other Widows are working on finding the people behind your reactivation. Once they do, you can go back to living your life. You-”

“No. I’m sick of this. I don’t believe there’s a threat in the city. Or if there is, its not sat outside our building waiting for me to walk out the front door.”

“Okay,” he said, not used to her sounding so agitated. Every night this week she’d greeted him with a home cooked meal and a smile. She’d asked about his day and updated him on her research into his problem. And selfishly, he’d accepted it all without thinking much about her problem.

He’d just enjoyed…playing house with her.

God, he could be such a inconsiderate bastard at times.

“I’m not keeping you hostage, Calina,” he continued. “If you think its safe to start venturing outside - and if you think you’re fit enough to handle what might come - then I’m not going to stop you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you have to be so goddam…reasonable?”

Matt shrugged. "I guess its the lawyer in me."

She didn't laugh at his joke. She just sighed, and conceded his point about her fitness. "My knee and elbow are a lot better. But if I was forced to run right now - or defend myself - it wouldn’t go well.”

“So just give it a few more days. Rushing back into the world is not worth the risk. And even if it’s a relatively small risk, I’d feel better if you didn’t take it yet.” He swallowed sharply, remembering the events of last Friday night. “I don’t ever want to see you like that again. I hated it.”

“I hated it too,” she whispered.

He bumped his shoulder against hers and tried to make her smile. “And I’m not sure I could take you down a second time. You’re a hell of a fighter.”

She didn’t smile. Instead, her arms tightened around her, as if she was struggling to hold herself together. “If it ever happens again, I won’t take that chance.”

The defeat in her voice scared him. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a few minutes of awareness, before the serum takes hold. Before it fully drags you under. I’ll use those minutes wisely.”

His stomach fell at the meaning behind her words. “Calina…”

“I was under that control for most of my adult life, Matt. And I’ve seen what its like from the other side, as well. I won’t ever let it happen again. I won’t ever allow myself to become that…soulless killer again. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop it. To…end it.”

She turned away from him to gaze out over the cityscape. But he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, the desperate panic he felt spilling from his lips. “No! Calina, no. Don’t even think about that.”

He moved his hands up to gently grasp her face.“I will always find you, do you hear me?” he pleaded. “I will always find you, and I will always bring you back to yourself.”

She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly. “Callie, please! Please, tell me you won’t hurt yourself. Trust me to save you. Please.”

She stopped resisting. And sighed. “Okay. Okay, Matt.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

It sounded like the truth. And her steady heartbeat made it seem like an honest pledge. But he knew he couldn’t trust that when it came to Calina. For the first time in a long time, he wished he could see. He had the sense that if he could lock eyes with her, and stare into her soul, he would be able to find out the whether she was lying or not.

And he’d be able to convince her to trust him.

But that was an impossible wish. Instead, he took her hand and led her down the stairs into the apartment. And when they crawled into bed together, he didn’t stick to his side of the mattress. He didn’t keep his distance from her - because it felt like she was the one keeping him at arm’s length tonight.

And he hated it. He had the irrational fear that she would disappear in the night, slip out of his life like an apparition.

So he fitted himself against her back and pulled her into the crook of his body with a strong arm around her waist.

“Matt?” she whispered, obviously confused at the break in their routine.

“Shhh,” he whispered back. “Go to sleep.”

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in her scent…then held her as they both drifted off.

———

Calina smoothed the blanket on the back of the arm chair, and straightened the books on the coffee table. She bit her lip as she surveyed the apartment for anything else that was out of place.

She felt oddly nervous.

But it was better than the strange melancholy she’d been plagued with the last couple of days. The feeling of being trapped and helpless. The feeling that had led her to the rooftop last night, where she had confessed her contingency plan to Matt - the plan for if the worst ever happened again.

She hadn’t made the decision lightly - which meant she wasn’t sure she could keep the promise she’d made to Matt to not go through with it. But he’d sounded so desperate last night, so afraid for her, that she’d ended up telling him what he wanted to hear.

Maybe it was the Catholic in him - and his fear for her eternal soul if she took her own life. Or maybe it was his guilt speaking. He felt such a huge, misplaced sense of responsibility for everything that went wrong in this city - he was bound to feel responsible for her as well. And she would hate to add to his burden, but her fear of ending up under someone’s control again trumped every other consideration.

That fear had been growing all week. Slowly creeping up on her at odd moment throughout the day, catching her off guard with feelings of panic and unease. She tried to chalk it up to cabin fever. She tried to convince herself that it would disappear once she was back to fighting fitness and out in the world again...

But she wasn’t sure. It felt like the events of last Friday had broken something in her. Something that might never be fixed.

Luckily, she’d had a good distraction from those troubling thoughts - investigating Matt’s mysterious drug. Which his friends were coming over to discuss.

Here.

Any minute now.

Hence the nerves.

Which, typically, Matt picked up on. She wondered what was giving her away. Was it her fluttering heart? Her shaky breaths. Or just some quirk of her neurochemistry. “Relax, Calina. They’re not coming here to judge your cleaning skills. Believe me, they’ve seen this apartment in a much worse state.”

“I know. I just…” want to make a good impression. Matt’s friends were so important to him. She wanted them to like her. In fact, it felt vital that they like her.

Before she could finish her sentence, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in, guys,” Matt called.

Foggy was the first to enter the living room, his wide smile not quite masking the wariness in his eyes. She didn’t blame him; the last time he’d come through that door he’d found her locked in combat with his friend, the two of them bloodied and thrashing on the floor.

Then he’d helped restrain her.

She held up her hands and wriggled her fingers. “No handcuffs this time.”

She’d been aiming for a joke. A way to lighten the mood and address the elephant in the room at the same time. But Foggy just frowned at her in confusion.

Matt jumped in to explain. “Um, Calina is still working on her jokes.”

“Yeah,” Calina said. “Sorry.”

Foggy laughed and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. “No problem. I just hope you’re not taking humour lessons from Matt.”

“Hey, I’m funny,” Matt protested.

“Sure you are.” The response came from the woman behind Foggy. “We laugh at you all the time.”

The woman took a step closer to Calina and held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Karen.”

Calina shook her hand “Calina. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Calina sized the other woman up. It was an ingrained habit - born of a lifetime of being pitted against other females - and one that she wished she could break. She wanted to be friends with Karen. She didn’t want to see her as competition.

But as she assessed the other woman, she felt stirrings of…envy.

Karen Page was beautiful. She was tall - an inch or so taller than herself - with long, silky blond hair, and big blue eyes. But it wasn’t her superficial looks that Calina coveted. It was the sense she got that Karen was comfortable in her own skin; the sense that she knew who she was, and moreover that she liked that person.

It was something that Calina struggled with on a daily basis.

She was also so comfortable around Matt and Foggy, which only added to Calina's sense of envy. She smiled freely around them and joked easily. She made herself at home in Matt’s apartment, grabbing a glass of juice from the fridge before taking a seat at the dining table.

And when they moved on to discussing the mystery of the drug, she took the lead in summarising the case.

Calina stashed away her feelings of jealousy, and concentrated on the data being laid out. This was much more important than her petty insecurities. This drug was altering people's brain chemistry and making them act out of character - something she knew a thing or two about.

And something she'd been researching all week.

"I might have something," Calina said after Karen finished filling her in on the geographical spread of the cases. Matt raised his eyebrows in response. Foggy sat up straighter, and Karen smiled at her encouragingly.

"I don't think we're dealing with a drug in the conventional sense. I've been looking into why there's been no trace of a foreign compound in any of the victim’s blood work."

"Our forensic toxicologist talked about that on the witness stand," Karen interjected. "He theorised that the current tandem mass spectrometry panels aren't calibrated for novel compounds."

"That's true. They can't tell you about the composition of novel drugs - but they should still register spikes for unknown compounds. And there was nothing in Margaret Posen's results to indicate there was anything in her system. The toxicology results for the other victims were clean too."

“So…?” Karen asked.

“So I started to ignore the toxicology.” Calina shuffled through her papers, and pulled out several printed sheets that she’d highlighted earlier in the week. She laid them out on the table. “Instead I concentrated on the lab work for the victims admitted to hospital.”

She pointed at the first page. “This is the CSF result for Steven Cho. He was admitted to Metropolitan General last week with a delirium-like episode. As part of his work up, they did a lumbar puncture and sampled his cerebrospinal fluid. They were looking for signs of meningitis to explain his symptoms, but found only increased levels of glucose, which they dismissed.”

She moved on to the next page. “This is the urinalysis for Miriam Giles. She presented with extremely high blood pressure and a racing heart. These can be symptoms for a type of adrenal tumour, so the doctors checked her urine looking for catecholamines. It was positive - but there was no tumour on her MRI scan.”

Calina pointed to page after page showing abnormal results, explaining each one as she went. Then she summed it up. “In isolation, all of these abnormal results can be ignored. But I had the benefit of knowing that all these patients are linked. And when you know that, you start to understand what you’re dealing with.”

“Which is…?” Foggy asked, looking completely baffled.

“Fight or flight.”

Matt leaned forward in his seat and cocked his head. “Fight or flight? You mean like an adrenaline surge?”

“Yes. The catecholamines that were in Miriam’s urine were specifically epinephrine and norepinephrine - otherwise known as adrenaline and noradrenaline. It all fits - the increased glucose levels, the high heart rate-”

“But I would have detected the increased adrenaline on these people,” Matt countered.

“Not necessarily. You've said it yourself - the smell of the compound is overwhelming. Maybe it's strong enough to mask the effects.”

The three faces staring back at her still looked sceptical, so Calina continued to lay out her case. “It doesn’t just explain the blood work - it explains all the different behaviours these people exhibited.” She pointed to Karen’s colour-coded map. “It’s called fight or flight for a reason. How you respond to the stimulus of intense fear and anxiety depends on the type of person you are.”

Karen nodded, suddenly seeing the threads linking the different cases. “So one person might respond by jumping off a building-”

“Taking the ‘flight’ part a bit too literally,” Foggy commented.

Karen groaned and rolled her eyes. “Another person might try to fight it - turning their fear outwards.”

“Like Margaret Posen,” Matt chimed in. “She’d been pushed to the brink by the abuse of her ex-husband, and when faced with that fear again she snapped and fought back.”

Calina nodded. “There’s also research that suggests excessive adrenaline has similar effects to certain stimulants - causing paranoia, hallucinations, violence and unexpected physical strength.”

“The hallucinations would explain why Margaret mistook an innocent women for a threat. And it would explain the behaviour of those thugs terrorising the bar.”

“And then the last group - the ones whose bodies couldn’t handle the effects. Their hearts give out under the strain or their blood vessels burst.”

“Like the truck driver I came across,” Matt added. “The autopsy result said he had a burst aneurysm in his brain.”

“Holy shit,” Foggy breathed. “It really does all fit.”

“But why wasn’t the adrenaline picked up on the drug screen,” Karen asked.

“Because like I said at the start, we’re not dealing with a conventional drug. There’s no exogenous adrenaline in these people’s systems. They’re making their own adrenaline in response to something. Something that doesn’t show up on blood tests or toxicology assays.”

“What could do that?” Matt asked.

“Pheromones,” Calina answered. “These people are being hit with fear pheromones. And its triggering a massive, mind-altering fight or flight response.”

————–

(To any other doctors (or toxicologists!) reading - yes, I know, the science is a bit fudged. Creative license!)

Chapter 5.

Taglist: @hollandorks, @yanna-banana, @stilldreaming666, @tearosearts-blog @chezagnes, @freckledbabyyy, @acharliecoxedfan,

If you’d like to be added, let me know!

#Daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #marvel's daredevil #daredevil x ofc #daredevil x original female character #Matt Murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x original character #tabula rasa

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urbanwoodsgoods · 11 months ago

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Elevate your office decor with Urban Wood Goods Rectangle Conference Tables. Designed for versatility and style, our tables feature clean lines and robust construction from reclaimed wood, making them ideal for any conference room. Choose Urban Wood Goods to combine sophistication with sustainability, ensuring your workspace is both functional and beautiful.

#Rectangle Conference Tables #rectangular conference tables #rectangular meeting room table

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evan-collins90 · 4 years ago

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‘Baroque Electronics’ computer room (year not listed)

“In this executive's home computer room, designed by Stanley Jay Friedman and associates Joel C. Gevis and Roger Urmson, Italian Baroque and high technology counterpoint in an idiom best described as "classical modernism:'

In plan, the room is a rectangle with furnishings concentrated at the far end by the windows. Here, a custom leather banquette, table, and chairs can accommodate a business conference, an intimate supper, or an evening of solitary relaxation. Classical references soften the otherwise severe approach--gilded putti and billowing Roman shades become the antithesis of twentieth-century electronic technology. With an eye toward the humorous, anatomical wall sconces—made from gilded mannequin arms—playfully recall Giacometti's classic design.”

Scanned from ‘The Media Design Book’ by Philip Mazzurco (1984)

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antoine-roquentin · 4 years ago

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When advising on how much to pay for an acquisition, whether and how to begin a hostile takeover or when to bluff during a sale process, what often matter most are things that are impossible to convey via a tiny video-chat rectangle: emotional nuances, body language and subtle social cues. That’s why Wall Street bankers and traders need to get vaccinated if they aren’t already and return to their offices as soon as possible, even as the Delta variant of the coronavirus surges.

In the early 1990s, I watched Harvey Miller, a bankruptcy guru at Weil, Gotshal & Manges, go toe-to-toe in a conference room overlooking Central Park with my boss at Lazard, David Supino, as they divvied up the carcass of the disastrous leveraged buyouts of Federated Department Stores and Allied Stores. The yelling! The robust intellectual debate! The alpha male mind games! The subtle power dynamics of who pounded the table when and who ate off whose plate. Yet their jousting enabled the business — and many others — to get back on its feet.

I learned by studying Mr. Rohatyn, the mergers and acquisitions legend, as he roamed the narrow, threadbare halls of the 32nd floor of 1 Rockefeller Plaza. He wielded his absolute power through a wink or a nod to lesser Lazard partners or ignoring some of them with a stony stare. I learned to watch for those signals closely, as he advised Martin Davis, the head of Paramount Communications, in the sale of Paramount to Viacom’s Sumner Redstone in the early 1990s, a deal that transformed the Hollywood landscape.

By watching my mentors press an advantage or bluff an opponent, I absorbed their deal-making wisdom. There is simply no way that an endless series of video chats could have replaced the lessons I learned darting in and out of the offices of these men and women in Rockefeller Center or at 270 Park Avenue as I was making my way up the investment-banking ladder. (Let’s face it: You can’t suck up on a Zoom call.)

remember, our society is structured around this fucked up game of charades being compensated at a greater rate than the work everybody else does and ensuring the ego stroking, the bullshit artistry, the con man tricks, and the bluster are the most essential part of our economy’s continued functioning

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

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Any Questions?

For @whumptober2021 day 10, I chose alternate prompt 14: Battlefield

CW: BBU, Whumper POV, referenced torture, referenced pet whump, recorded past torture & some ableism

Follow-up to I Did Not Sign Up For This and part 2 of the opening salvo of Speak Out.

Michael belongs to @card-games-and-pain

Her phone rings, and Karen frowns at the number. The CEO never calls her at home, at least not on her days off.

She glances up at the clock - middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, no special time really - and then picks up the slim black rectangle, swiping her thumb up, placing the screen against her ear.

“This is Karen Renford-” His first sentence has her back straighten and her heart skips a beat.“Sir? What do you mean-”

He cuts her off again. Karen is up and out of her seat by the time he’s spoken two full sentences, heading for her home office door, past the broken cane she’s hung on the wall.

By his third sentence, she’s halfway down the stairs, running even, her breath caught in her throat. There’s an unfamiliar feeling setting her pulse to thrumming, a hummingbird’s wingbeat trapped in her wrists, her throat, behind her ribs.

She hears Peter’s bedroom door open. “Madam?”

She ignores him. His footsteps - and Michael’s - are soft behind her on the stairs as she makes it to the landing, glancing to the side. Sebastian is in the kitchen working on a complicated marinade for tomorrow’s dinner, and he doesn’t look up from his focus on his work.

She catches sight of the top of Dex’s head. He’s lying on the couch, taking a break. He needs them more and more, as his body shows the effects of his two decades with her. For some reason, lately, she’s been allowing it.

Maybe she’s getting soft in her old age.

“Dex, turn on the news,” She says quickly, and he shifts into immediate motion, sitting up and nodding, picking up the remote. None of his motions are fast enough and the CEO is still shouting in her ear.

“Dex, channel five! Now!”

His hands shake at the tone in her voice, but he manages to obey. The screen flickers on.

“-proof that WRU lies,” A youngish man in his thirties is saying, staring directly into the screen. He smiles, wide blue eyes in a pretty face, black curls in a sort of artful disarray around his head. Karen vaguely recognizes him, but can’t quite remember why.

He stands next to a redhead who also seems familiar somehow, and there are athletes sitting at a long table on either side of him, still wearing their nation’s colors, holding photographs. Karen’s eyes scan the photos in their hands and the strange, unpleasant feeling within her intensifies.

She can’t identify it. It’s like disgust, or repulsion, but somehow entirely different than either of those feelings.

Her heart feels like it’s racing within her, her normally calm pulse a hummingbird’s vibration. Karen finds her breath catching, hitching, and when she looks down her hands are shaking.

What is this?

The black-haired man pauses, and his identity clicks into place - Owen Grant’s missing pet, the Vincent Shield clone who has been gone for… what, nearly ten years now? Has it been so long?

The young man pauses, tilting his head to the side. “My name was Liam Harker,” He says, taking a deep breath. He is holding tightly to the hand of the redhead next to him. “My name was Liam Harker, and I did not sign up for this.”

There is a sudden roar from the journalists at the press conference, shouting questions rapid-fire, gasps of shock, indignation.

Dex, sitting next to her, claps his hands together three times, so loudly Karen jumps.

She never jumps.

Peter, Michael, and Sebastian run into the room, standing just behind Karen’s pristine white couch, staring wide-eyed at the screen as the chyron along the bottom of the press conference reads ‘WRU LIES’... PET LIBERATION INTERRUPTS 20XX SUMMER OLYMPICS… AKIO NAKAMURA CALLS SURPRISE PRESS CONFERENCE TO REVEAL UNTOLD SECRETS OF CORPORATE GIANT WRU…

“What the fuck is going on, Karen?!” Timothy Rahm is shouting but his voice seems oddly tinny and far away, as if her phone isn’t against her ear but maybe all the way across the room. Karen’s mouth opens, but she can’t think of an answer. “I thought we sponsored the goddamn Olympics teams!”

“We… we do, Tim,” Karen says, her mind racing. She sees a total lack of reaction on Dex’s face, and Sebastian’s - and terror on Peter’s. Poor sweet dim Peter, who knows only that something has happened that is terribly wrong, and is likely too stupid to understand what.

Karen ignores that she herself doesn’t quite understand yet either.

She also ignores that Michael’s expression has nothing to do with fear and is instead one of barely contained glee.

The redhead steps back up to the podium, his long fingers closing on either side to hold himself up. He looks scared in a way the other man didn’t. He waits while the uproar begins, slowly, to die down. Reporters start to go quiet, one by one. The gymnast beside him - Akio Nakamura, it must be, he was favored to win the gold and sure enough, he’s wearing his gold medal right now - leans against him and gives him a nudge.

Karen can tell he’s mouthing, or saying, you can do this.

The redhead’s voice shakes much harder when he speaks than the other’s did. “I, I, I didn’t sign up, either. I’m, um. I was… I was, was, was just… I was s-sixteen when my, when, when my aunt told them to to to to-to take me.”

Karen’s eyes close, slowly, but then she forces them open again. She can’t not watch this.

On the screen behind him, the image shifts to a photo of the redhead much younger, smiling, in a professional gymnastics uniform. Next to him is a woman, clearly his mother, with an arm around his waist, smiling brilliantly. On the other, what must be his father - they’re nearly identical - arm around his shoulders. The father’s eyes are focused somewhere off to the right and he’s not smiling, but there’s a warmth in him nonetheless.

“My parents were-...” The redhead’s voice catches and he looks down, his fingers working at the podium. He looks up again. “Murdered. When, when, when I was, um, fifteen. I went to live with my, my, um, my aunt who w-w-worked-... Aki, I can’t, I I I I can’t, I can’t do th-this-”

Akio Nakamura slides an arm around him and holds tightly, whispering into his ear. There’s a rush of whispering among the reporters, so loud it’s audible through the television screen. A girl holding a photo of a young man looks over, her face gentling, and then she stands, walking around behind the two to the other side of the redhead, laying her hand over his. Next to her, a young man wearing a Canadian uniform takes her hand and stands as well.

Karen’s stomach sinks as, one by one, every single person at the table stands up and holds onto one another. The countries they represent are incredibly varied, and WRU’s activities are not legal in all of them, but they have one thing in common that Karen recognizes immediately:

They are countries where WRU’s Acquisitions teams operate.

The redhead looks up.

“Fucking high-definition television,” Karen whispers. She can see the tear tracks on the redhead’s face. Which means so can anyone else watching, nationwide. “Tim, call in the PR people.”

“I’ve already done that-”

“We’re going to need incredible reputation management, Tim.”

“I realize that, Karen.”

“Someone’s going to need to go to prison. At least ten someones.”

He goes quiet, then. “Couple of handlers?”

“Maybe, let me think, just give me a moment, please, Tim-”

“My aunt,” The redhead says, suddenly, more strongly than he’s been speaking. “My, my aunt sold me. To WRU. I was, um. I was seventeen. She sold me on my birthday.”

The image behind him shifts again. Same boy, a little later, in a WRU intake video, sitting at a table. There’s no sound, but she can read what’s happening well enough. In fact… she’s in the video.

Karen stares at herself - she’d never liked that haircut - and exhales. The source of her pounding heart, the shakiness in her limbs, becomes suddenly clear to her. She’s so rarely felt it that she didn’t recognize the emotion at first.

She’s afraid.

The boy on the screen is asking a question. The handler behind him grabs him by the scruff of the neck like a dog and shakes him violently. Says something. The boy cringes away, his hands moving up onto the table in the room. His fingers move, some kind of rhythm. The handler takes out a black stick and smacks hard into them.

Even though she can’t hear the sound, Karen knows exactly what that cry of pain showing on the boy’s face must sound like.

There’s another ripple of sound through the reporters. A sudden burst of clicks.

The redhead swallows so heavily Karen can see his Adam's apple move. “I was seventeen. I, I, I’m, um, my, my aunt had custody of me. It was my-... she, um. She drugged… me. On my birthday. And sold me to, um, to to WRU. I was seventeen. I was scared. They, they, they locked me up alone for, for… I don’t… I can’t, um, remember exactly how long, but no one-... talked to me, no one would, I asked for her, for my aunt, for… anyone. And, and, and then… then Governor Oliver Branch came to-... to see me.”

The image changes again. It’s security camera footage from one of the training rooms, and shows the same boy being restrained, his arms locked into cuffs above his head, thrashing and screaming on his back on a padded table.

A door opens, and the late Governor of their state steps inside, caught clearly on camera. Clear, recognizable, undeniable. And there’s Karen alongside him, letting him in. Gesturing to the sobbing, screaming boy with a smile.

Yes, Karen thinks as she watches. This feeling is definitely fear.

“I think we’re going to have to go further than a couple of handlers,” She murmurs.

“I should fucking say so,” Timothy snaps. “How the hell did anyone get a hold of this footage, Karen?! I thought our networks were totally encrypted!”

“They-... they are. We need to speak to IT-”

“We need to speak to everyone!”

Another photo of the younger version of the redhead, wearing a soft blue collar and matching sweater, sitting on an enormous bed with dark covers and sheets. He gives a faint, trembling smile to whoever is holding the camera.

Then another photo, later, the boy curled up against a woman with a brown braid that Karen also knows, only this one she doesn’t have to stretch to remember.

“Who is that? I know that woman,” Timothy says in her ear. “Who is in that photo-”

“Natalie Yoder,” Karen says, quietly.

“... why do I know that name?”

“She came up with our slogan. Then she quit and joined the pet lib movement.”

“Is she behind this, Karen? Can we take care of-”

“Not if it’s on live television, we can’t. We can’t pretend it was an accident or a coincidence if we move right now. And I don’t think she’s doing this, I’ve been following that woman for twenty years, this isn’t her style. No…”

Her eyes go to the gymnast, Nakamura, who is smiling encouragingly at the redhead. Karen’s always had good instincts and she trusts them now, as she sees the Nakamura boy look at the others standing behind the table.

“I think we’re looking at outside involvement entirely,” She murmurs, making a note of the Nakamura boy’s face.

“My, my, my name is Christopher Stanton,” The redhead says, leaning forward into the microphone. “But it wasn’t before. My aunt told everyone I, I killed myself, she told my my my friends, my-... she told them I killed myself. But… but I was never dead. I was, was, was always here. I’m… I’m still here.” His jaw works, and he breaks into a hitched sob, swaying back and forth, back and forth.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t start crying enough to stop this little production from going on.

“My name is Christopher Stanton,” He says, loudly, his hands moving to tap on the podium as he stops rocking. “And, and, and it’s Tristan Higgs. I was Tristan Higgs. I’m still here, and I, I, I got my name back, and we can, we, we all can get our names back. They say they take everything away, and… and, and, and they… they lie. WRU lies.”

He steps back, and the girl who has been standing next to him, wearing Iran’s Olympic uniform, steps up to the microphone. The image projected behind them changes to a young man with a serious face and dark, dark eyes, a bit of stubble around his jaw. In the photo, slightly grainy, he sits in front of a fountain, wearing a button-up shirt and loose pants.

The girl speaks with a clipped, controlled ferocity that can’t quite hide the sheer depth of fury in her eyes. “This... is Bijan Ahmari. He went to study at university in Tehran to be a doctor. He has three sisters and a brother, he is studious and creative. He was last seen getting into a taxi outside a restaurant after dinner with friends three years ago.”

The image shifts to what is clearly the same young man, slightly later, in the trainee outfit, sitting on an exam table in the WRU clinic, smiling with an expression of charming warmth that doesn’t reach his eyes. He wears a black leather collar that even in photos looks as soft as rabbit fur.

He must be asked something, because his look changes slightly, glancing to the side as if checking for what he’s meant to say, before his mouth moves in the direction of the camera.

“This,” The girl says, her voice going slightly lower but no less strong, “is what Bijan Ahmari looks like now.”

There’s a pause.

“Shit,” Timothy says, voice suddenly flat. “That’s Marcus Dolan’s Romantic.”

“Who?”

“The tech guy. Built that Get Together dating app, sold it for a billion dollars or something.”

“I thought he was married.”

“He is. Officially. That’s still his Romantic. Fuck, how did they-... They’re onto something, Karen.”

“Can we claim we didn’t know?” Karen asks the question in the same flat tone. Her pets are restless, except for Dex’s perfect stillness and fascinated stare at the screen. Peter and Sebastian have moved close to one another. Michael stands behind Peter with his arms around him, resting his chin on the top of Peter’s head. When Sebastian leans against them, they put arms around him in turn.

“We can, but I don’t know how well it’ll play.”

The Canadian steps up next. A girl appears behind him, smiling over her shoulder, with a cascade of blond hair. “This is Jennifer Kelly,” He says, his own voice catching slightly. “She ran away from home when she was sixteen. WRU claims she signed up two years later, but we know better.”

The image changes to the same girl, walking down the street, several years older. Small children hold her hands on either side of her, dressed in private school uniforms, their faces carefully blurred to keep them unrecognizable. If it weren’t for the collar around her neck, she’d look like a nanny.

Then a young woman wearing a South Korean uniform speaks, leaning forward into the microphone. “Park Si-Yoo,” She says, and there’s a photo of a Korean girl at a restaurant with friends, making a peace sign into the camera, all of them smiling brightly and leaning their heads together, steam from the grill set into the table in front of them rising around them. “She was having a very hard time with depression, anxiety. She disappeared at age twenty-one. At first, when the police say they found her body, we believe them.”

The photo changes to a shot of the same girl in training, dull-eyed staring directly into the camera, her hair chopped into a blunt bob. She has the shock collar on.

Her shoulders are hunched, defensively, and she is slightly turned away, as if she had been trying to move back and was forced back into place.

“Now we think the body was a false one.”

One by one, they speak. There are photos of young people, and then photos in training, or shots taken in secret on the street. One by one, and Karen’s sense of fear seems only to grow. There has been resistance, of course, from the very beginning. But this is… this is entirely new.

This is organized, global, this is…

“This could ruin us,” Karen whispers.

Now Akio Nakamura steps up to the podium. On one side, the redhead - on the other, Owen Grant’s pretty runaway.

“A few years ago,” Akio Nakamura says, his voice clear and strong, “my best friend’s parents were murdered. The murderers were never caught or charged. We only know who they were because they were later killed themselves, and the DNA matched. After what happened, my family offered to take Tristan in, but his aunt was given custody and refused to allow us contact.” Akio swallows. He swallows again. “We tried-... maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

The redhead leans over, leaning his head against Akio’s. Nakamura swallows, hard, steeling himself for the rest.

“She took him out of therapy, she stopped giving him his ADHD medication, she pulled him out of school. When she found out he was complaining to us about it, she took away his phone. And then... then one day, she told us that he ran away. Then, later, that he had killed himself. When Joanne Botham told my mother that Tristan was dead by suicide, he was… he was still alive. Not only was he still alive, he was in her apartment, probably on the other side of a wall, needing just-... just someone to know he was there.”

The Nakamura boy looks over the crowd of reporters, inhaling deeply, exhaling again. He’s trying to stay calm, and Karen wishes he would break down, the little wretch. Lose his ability to do this, to poison a nation against her. “Can you call someone and have them cut the broadcast-”

“I could, but it’s the goddamn Olympics, Karen, if we cut nobody else will. If it bleeds it leads, right?”

And here is WRU’s jugular being slit, on live television, with a silent enraptured audience.

“The ratings,” Karen says heavily, “are going to be spectacular.”

Timothy gives a bitter laugh in response.

“I mourned my best friend for years. And when I was mourning him - when I dropped out of gymnastics, when I dropped out of school for a while, when I… when I dropped everything… he was still alive. But he was living in terror, and pain, and fear. Joanne Botham sold him to WRU for a nice finder’s fee, a good little bonus-”

Behind him, the image projected is now a very familiar bit of paperwork. Karen swallows against the sight of the finder’s fee and bonus paid to employee Joanne Botham, Joanne’s signature… and Karen’s.

“And once they had tortured, and traumatized, and terrorized him into obedience, WRU sold him to Governor Oliver Branch, who kept him tied to his bed or locked in a room or-or under his d-d-desk-” Akio’s voice nearly breaks on the surge of anger. “And WRU knew. They knew and they lied, over and over. And that’s not an exception. It’s the rule. They lie.”

“They tell us we wanted a better life,” Kauri Grant says, leaning over so the mic picks his voice up. “They tell us we asked for it.”

“They tell us,” The Iranian girl says, leaning forward herself, “that our family members did not want their lives any longer, that they handed them over happily. That Bijan had simply decided it was to difficult to be a doctor and chose to be this instead.”

“They tell us it’s a fresh start,” The Canadian says. “That they helped Jennifer get off drugs, and who are we to stop her from living a better life?”

“They tell us that our family, our friends, the people we lose… that they are happier this way,” A German athlete says. “That my friend’s cousin would rather live this way than any other.”

“They, they, they told me…” Tristan leans forward now. “They, they told me I wanted to disappear. But I didn’t. My, my, my aunt wanted me gone. I wanted my, my life. I wanted my life. She took it away from me.”

“I need to make some calls,” Karen says, her mouth barely moving. “We need to call Joanne Botham and get her in.”

“Start with her?”

“Start with her. WRU cooperates every step of the way to get her imprisoned. Then we start working our way through the edges.”

She has to hope Timothy doesn’t decide she needs to go to prison to fix this, too.

Timothy’s voice is low, emotionless now, strategizing. “I need to speak to Marcus and tell him to hide his Romantic and to do it now. I’ll call you back. We’re in the deep shit now, Renford.”

“I can see that.” She hangs up. However, she doesn’t dial any numbers right away. She just stares at the screen. Somehow, she can’t look away.

“WRU will now pretend,” Akio Nakamura says, “that they don’t know about this. It’s an aberration, it’s not normal, it’s not part of their business model. Their executives will say it’s a problem lower-down, not their idea, not something they signed off on. But their own executives know damn well what happens, and when they say they don’t, they’re not just lying to us. They’re lying to all of you. They tell you your children ran away, that they didn’t want to live at home anymore. Sometimes, they tell you that your child is dead.”

A photo pops up on the screen behind him now that has Karen’s eyes widening, her cell phone dropping to thump on the rug beneath her feet.

Dex’s lips move, mouthing a name, and he leans forward. Sebastian gasps.

The photo is of a young teenager with curly brown hair, running down a soccer field in a high school uniform colored dark blue and sky blue, a number across the chest and stomach. A small article from a local newspaper about a Tennessee boy gone missing while walking home from practice. A smiling school photo printed in blurry black and white.

PRESUMED DEAD, FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.

A photo beneath it of the boy’s family, a woman and man and siblings, holding each other while they weep.

Then... a photo of the same boy in training, covered in bruises, with a black eye and busted lip, shock collar locked around his neck. He stands next to a handler who has a hand laid heavy on the back of his neck. He’s... short.

God, he was always so short.

“That’s me,” Peter whispers, and yet it feels like a scream. “Michael, that’s-... that’s me-”

“I know,” He whispers, just loud enough for Karen to hear. “I know, Petey, I know.” His whisper goes vicious and triumphant. “And now everyone else knows, too.”

“Fuck,” Karen says, and drops to sit on the couch herself.

Her legs won’t hold her up any longer.

“We don’t know what happened to all of the people we’ve gotten this info on,” Akio says, voice flat but strong. “But we’re still working. And we’re going to find them all, and show WRU that they can’t just steal people any longer. They can’t play this game. They can’t keep taking the ones we love away from us, and taking us away from the people we love.”

Akio Nakamura steps fully aside, and now the two runaways stand side by side before the podium again, equally framed. Behind them, the photo shifts to a shot of the two of them as they must be now, in regular clothes, sitting on a ratty old plaid couch and laughing.

“We took our lives back,” Kauri Grant says, voice firm. “We lost so much, and we can’t reclaim all of it, but we took back so much you told us we’d never have again. I learned how to say no.”

“I, I, I learned how to read,” Tristan Higgs says, a little hesitantly. “I went to, um, to college.”

“I learned how to write,” Kauri Grant says. “I write again, like I used to-... I write.”

“I learned how to, to love someone.” Tristan Higgs smiles, shyly.

Kauri looks right at the camera, and Karen gets the feeling he speaks directly to someone. “I learned that I am worth being loved.”

Tristan looks over at Akio Nakamura, and then back. “I got my, my, my best friend back.”

“I make the decisions about my life now.” Kauri smiles, but it’s grim. “And I'm never letting someone else decide who I am, ever again. I know who I am.”

“I, I know who I am, too.” Tristan takes a deep breath. “We learned, um, we learned how to say… how to… how to tell you that we don’t want this. We don’t want them, the, the people who buy us.” His shy smile widens. Karen hates him. “We don’t want you.”

“We don’t want to show you any respect.” Grant’s smile is pure poison now, and Karen wonders if he’s always been so dangerous, and she had been too fooled by the feeling that that pretty head was empty. “And you’re going to discover that this isn’t it. We’re not done.”

“We’re still here,” Tristan Higgs says, so loudly now that there’s a burst of low feedback from the microphone. “We’re not dead. We’re still here and we, we want our lives back. We want all of us to have their lives back. To stop having to hide. To stop, to, to stop running. And we’re not stopping until we, we, we’ve freed us all. We’re still here. You c-can’t… you, you can’t erase us.”

Kauri Grant - Liam Harker - takes Tristan Higgs’s hand, and raises it high.

“This is a war,” Kauri says loudly. “And the pets are finally ready to take WRU down to the foundations.”

Once more, he gives that winning, winsome smile.

“Any questions?”

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @what-a-whump @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf

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janekfan · 4 years ago

Note

You need to back off + Please come home for some angsty Jmart?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122362

Prompts are getting filled! Slowly but surely! :D

I hope you like it ^^

Jon woke himself coughing with the realization that what he’d hoped were allergies the day before was now full blown body aches, chills and a productive hacking cough. Reaching out for comfort, he encountered only cold sheets and he shut his throbbing eyes tightly against sudden tears, too emotional. Needy. Sick. Not that he wasn’t needy when he was well either, but.

Martin wasn’t here.

Jon gripped a handful of bedclothes, curling on his side in the space where Martin should be and wasn’t. He thought of warm hands and soft kisses testing his temperature and gentle tutting. Martin would fuss over him terribly, plying him with medicine and perfectly steeped tea with honey and lemon for his sore throat. He would want for nothing, of that he was certain, but.

Martin wasn’t here.

And it was Jon’s fault.

No. Not entirely. He was away for the long weekend for an international conference.

But the shouting match they’d had before he left was very much Jon’s fault.

It figured that he would chase him away. Jon was miserable and ungrateful on his best days and like a dog with a bone on his worst. Why couldn’t he just let things go? Why did he have to push and question and needle Martin like that when he knew his partner needed time to think? Was already anxious about being away for so long? Jon certainly knew how to pick the best time for a row. Impeccable timing as usual, god damn him. Another fit crept its way through his tight chest, up his throat, painfully forcing itself free, and he stifled himself in a pillow.

He wanted Martin.

He had no right to, but he wanted him just the same.

After allowing himself just a few moments to wallow in misery, he forced himself up, driving the heels of both hands against his eyelids. It was a cold. It’d been going around the university and he was always early to catch whatever pathogens his students carried with them. He’d been run down and tired the last week and not from finals apparently. He shuffled awkwardly to the bathroom, limping heavily on his bad leg, absently trying to massage the deep ache left over from the worms all those years ago. He let the water run for a moment, get as hot as he could stand it, and with Martin’s voice in the back of his head, resigned himself to the use of the shower stool he’d insisted on. Sagging forward, Jon let the pounding pressure beat heavy against his back, breathing in the steam in the hopes it would loosen the knots tied thick and rigid around his lungs. Washing up took everything he had left and he wanted nothing more than to collapse back into bed and curl up around Martin’s pillow. Instead he slipped on his favorite of Martin’s jumpers over his pyjamas and took up his cane and made himself tea with honey and lemon and forced himself to drink it even though it tasted wrong. Struggling through the foil of the blister pack exhausted him further but he dutifully downed the tablets with the dregs of his cold cup of subpar tea. Dizzy, nauseated, the room spun around him wildly and he swallowed it down with a sob, laying his hot face against the cool surface of the dining table.

He wanted Martin.

Martin asked him to please not call unless there was an emergency. This wasn’t that. This was some sort of bug and Jon was an adult and he could take care of himself. He shivered. Teeth chattering in his skull and against his better judgement he fumbled for his cell with numb fingers. He thumbed it awake, blinking at the blinding glare. Recents. Martin. Messages. Jon scrolled through them, lingering on his responses. It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough and Martin had asked him. Asked him not to contact him. For emergencies only. This wasn’t an emergency. It wasn’t. The screen went dark. The tears slipped over the bridge of his nose, tracing the faint scar there left by some fear or another so long ago and Jon chose to be selfish.

What else was new?

“Jon.” Measured, but not cold like he feared so much it would be but focused enough to cut him off before he could even think to apologize. “You need to back off. I’ve asked for some space and I would appreciate it if you would let me focus on this conference. I’ll be back soon. We can talk then.” He paused and with it, so did Jon’s heart. “I love you.”

“I, I love you.” But he’d already hung up and Jon didn’t blame him.

Shivering with chills, Jon dragged his sorry self back into bed, curling into the duvet and closing his eyes against the woozy rolling of his stomach. The tea wasn’t sitting well and Jon found himself panting, shallow and fast, concentrating on keeping himself together and willing himself to sleep though that plan didn’t seem to be working. Salt flooded his tongue and he lurched for the bin beside the bedside, dry heaving painfully. Sweat poured down his face, dripped off his chin.

It wasn’t an emergency.

It wasn’t.

He coughed, wincing and lifting a trembling hand to his throat and pressing against Daisy’s remnant souvenir, imagining the hurt there. A mewling whimper carried on an uneven breath escaped the cage of his fingers. Restless sleep crashed over him, was dragged away from him, uncomfortable, hot and cold somehow simultaneously. Jon picked up his phone repeatedly to call, to text. But he needed to let Martin have this. He wasn’t like him. He needed time and Jon needed to be patient no matter how ill he was feeling, no matter how much he wanted Martin’s reassuring voice. And it was his fault he couldn’t have it.

Jon couldn’t remember a time in his life where he felt this poorly; not even starved for statements, or scarred by numerous fears. Sleep hadn’t been forthcoming after he lurched awake to be sick again and he hadn’t had the forethought to put anything he might need on the bedside table. Objectively, he knew when he ran fevers they had a tendency to spike at night and that if he could just get up to fetch some medicine he would feel better. Subjectively, he was convinced his legs wouldn’t hold him, that he was dying here alone and when Martin returned for his things he would find his body. Panic built and built and built in his chest, cutting off his ability to breathe, stealing the air around him as surely as Crew had when he dropped him effortlessly, eternally through the void and before he knew it his fingers were acting without express permission.

Insistent buzzing next to his ear dragged Martin up from the depths and he groaned in irritation when the rectangle of light blinded him momentarily. He sighed when he could finally see the caller and he supposed Jon had waited as long as he could before giving in and ringing him again. The man was not known for his patience, after all. Martin glanced at his still sleeping roommate, a paramedic out of Brussels, and slipped out of bed to take the call in the hallway.

“Jon.” The frustration was warranted but melted away into concern when his only answer was a strangled, hitching gasp.

“I, I’m s’sorry.”

“Jon, darling, what’s wrong?”

“Y’you want space and, and m’sorry, but I--” A sudden explosive cough caught him off guard; it sounded painful and tight.

“Jon, I need you to listen to me.”

“I’m sorry.” His hoarse whisper didn’t hide the wheeze on his breath. “Shouldn’have called, m’sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong.” Martin clutched his phone, voice calm and steady, hundreds of miles away from where Jon was falling apart.

“P’please?”

“What, Jon?” He was openly crying; big, ugly sobs in between each shuddering syllable, and Martin was almost at a total loss, murmuring sweet things through the line in an attempt to calm him, until his hiccuping slowed and he asked again and he answered, sad and small.

“Please? Come h’home?”

“Jon?” Tim let himself into the flat, speaking soft and low, lest Jon was asleep. “Martin told me you aren’t feeling so hot.” He pushed forward to the bedroom, sympathy welling up at the sight of Jon curled up so small, face hidden in his sweat-damp pillow. “Hey, bud.”

“Tim.” Raspy and rough, like he’d been chewing on rocks, he finished his identification on a weak cough.

“The one, the only.” When he laid the backs of his fingers against his temple, Tim hissed through his teeth at the blazing, dry heat of his skin.

“M’sorry…” the ghost of an exhale, shaky and slurred, and Jon managed somehow to pry heavy lashes apart to reveal unfocused eyes glassy with fever. Tim stroked messy curls away from his face, heart clenching when he groaned low in his throat, before deep brown rolled back and dislodged more tears.

“Let’s get you taken care of, okay?” But first, a quick status update for Martin, who had called him nearly in tears himself.

“How is he? Are you taking him to A&E?” Tim could almost see the way he was clinging to his phone.

“I don’t think so. Gonna get some water and medicine into him and see how that goes.”

“Tim? Is he okay?”

“He’s sick, looks like the flu and he’s likely been down with it a couple of days.”

“God, he tried to call me and I--”

“Gonna cut you off right there, Marto. This isn’t anyone’s fault. It just happens.”

“I was so upset with him--”

“And I’m sure he earned it. When he’s well again you can talk it out.”

“Tim.” Trembling,

“I’ll make certain he’s alright until you get home. I’ve got him, Martin.” While on the phone, Tim gathered up supplies, thankful that Jon lived with someone with brains enough to keep a stocked medicine cabinet complete with a fancy ear thermometer with disposable covers. Because Martin. Jon didn’t so much as twitch this time. 39.4. “Okay, buddy. Up you come now.”

“Nng…”

“Mhm,” Tim hummed good naturedly, holding the glass of water to chapped lips and going slow. “Good?” He took the unintelligible noise as a yes, allowing him a few more careful sips before slipping the capsules onto his tongue. “There we go. We’ll see how that sits.” He divested Jon of the wash worn wool keeping in all the heat, soothing him wordlessly when he tried in vain to keep it. A clean set of pyjamas would make him feel better and he let the relatively cool air of the room wick away the moisture left from a cursory damp flannel.

“...Tim?”

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Why’m’I in...in my pants…?”

“Did your best to sweat through the last set, here.” Tim helped guide loose limbs through the appropriate holes.

“S’cold…” punctuating his statement with a full body shiver, Jon slumped forward into Tim’s chest. “M’Martin’s cross.” Nodding, Tim gathered him up to deposit him on the sofa so he could change the bedclothes. “S’my fault…”

“When he comes home, you can apologize. Get him his favorite takeaway, yeah?” Jon listened intently, watery gaze fixed to Tim’s. “Put up those books of yours he’s always tripping over.”

“He, he. He’s coming home?” Lower lip trembling, Jon sounded too hopeful for this to be the distance of a long weekend.

“Oh, you daft fool, of course he is, of course.” He let Jon cry himself out on his shoulder. “He loves you, just needed some space, you know he likes space to get his thoughts in order. Of course he’s coming back.” Gentle and soft, Tim kept up his reassurances and hoped he’d forget that particular fear. Jon was too used to abandonment and all too accepting that he was the cause of it. That he was unlovable. “Alright, dry your eyes now.” Tim thumbed away matching saltwater tracks after settling him back on the couch cushions. “There we are.” Lord, he looked exhausted, the very textbook image of a bad flu with sore, red rimmed eyes limned with bruises. “Back in a tick, love.”

Clean, cool sheets, Jon tucked between them, kettle cooling off the hob, Tim set himself up on Martin’s side of the bed, getting another read, 38.1, and sending a quick update text before tapping open his most recent gaming obsession. The conference ended tomorrow morning and Martin would be home the same evening. With the next day off, Tim could wait that long. Jon’s burn-scarred hand snaked from under the blankets to grip his joggers.

“Hullo.” Tim tugged his fingers through messy curls. “Feeling a little better, champ?”

“Yeah…” It was still early hours and Jon needed all the sleep he could get.

“Sip on this.” And fluids. Tim levered him up, helping him hold the lukewarm mug of tea in shaky hands and laying him in his lap where he could knead out the knots tying up his shoulder blades until he sank deep.

Familiar voices hummed around him like moths just out of reach, melting together, drifting apart, slipping through his fingers. A door opened, closed, and Jon thought for a moment the Distortion must have him until a familiar palm pressed itself against his forehead. Martin’s face materialized in front of him and blurred just as quickly when tears filled his eyes. Wildly, he dove for him, not thinking about the edge of the mattress and collapsing into him when his legs gave way.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, you’re alright, love.” Jon pushed his face into Martin’s neck, body numb with relief. “Shh, shh, shhh.”

“M’m’sorry, so sorry.”

“I know.” Martin curled around him, holding him firmly, tightly, running his hand up and down the shallow seam of his spine. Jon didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve how good Martin was to him. And he, he didn’t--

“I d’don’t unders’stand.”

“Understand what?” Jon couldn’t look at him for fear of what he might see, hiding instead in Martin’s jumper. He shouldn’t have said anything at all. “Why I came home?” He didn’t speak, shook harder, swallowed with difficulty past the cloying clot of emotion in his throat. “Oh, love. You’re not well and everything’s a little mixed up right now.” Lightly, softly, Martin kissed his temple. “I’ll always come home.” Jon felt needy and childish, choosing to believe Martin and taking comfort in it, in the chaste press of his lips against any skin he could reach. “Back in bed now, you’re burning up. Tea?” Nodding once, Jon couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth again, worried that he’d destroy this tentative peace and so, so grateful to have Martin home and the next time he opened his eyes it was to Martin climbing into bed in his pyjamas, tea already on the nightstand.

“Will you tell me about the conference?” Jon accepted the open arms as the offer they were, fitting himself like a puzzle piece against his side, sick and sweaty and lulled by the soothing rumble of Martin’s voice beneath his ear.

There were other things to talk about, but for now, the two of them, here and now, were enough.

#TMA #The Magnus Archives #Jon Sims #Martin Blackwood #Tim Stoker #Jmart #JonMartin #sickfic #fever #flu #vomiting #panic #insecure jon #fight #argument #not pictured #love #caretaking

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