#abner krill oneshots

[embodyingchaos]

(ㅅ´ ˘ `) david dastmalchian masterlist

last updated: 22nd july, 2023 newest: latest heart to heart update

rules for requesting: ✮ disclaimer: i do not do smut, i can do dark themes such as stalking, etc. requests are open.

abner krill/polka-dot man(the suicide squad 2) dating abner genre: abner krill x gn!reader, headcanons, fluff, light angst warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, ptsd, a bit suggestive at the end HEHEH abner with a s/o that has a symbiote genre: abner krill x gn!reader, headcanons warnings: mentions of intercourse, very short bc i am pooped out of ideas for this one

yandere abner genre: abner krill x gn!reader, headcanons warnings: yandere behaviour, suggested intercourse, stalking, mentions of murder, abner being a creep, abner being DELUSIONAL heart to heart genre: abner krill x fem!oc, best friends to lovers warnings: mention of experimentation, murder, abuse, manipulation, ABNER'S MOTHER synopsis: after escaping an illegal lab where she was experimented on constantly, number 037 found a new life for her in gotham city, in a quaint little cafe. everything seemed to look up, she even met someone dearly special to her. who knew it would all go bad so fast? kurt goreshter(ant-man) - none yet. johnson(reprisal) dating johnson genre: johnson x gn!reader, headcanons, fluff warnings: drinking, light implications of intercourse lester billings(the boogeyman) - none yet. alonso "lonny" crane(the belko experiment) lift, laugh, love genre: lonny crane x named!fem!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers warnings: reader is emotionless-type character, reader’s name is quinn, panic attacks, reader used to smoke, sorta emotional, making out sorta cause i can mUAHAHAHA synopsis: you and lonny get stuck in a lift and a few confessions happen.

[practically-an-x-man]

Pit of Vipers (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: While in Belle Reve, Nikoletta realizes that a fight broke out the night before - and Abner didn't even try to fight back

Tags: pre-relationship, angst, violence, depictions of injuries, brief references to suicide

Word Count: 3.1k

____

“Adrian.”

She appeared out of the shadows and slid onto the bench beside him, and Adrian just about jumped out of his skin. 

“Jesus Christ- don’t do that!” he blurted, glaring at her from behind his glasses, “Do you know how close I get to punching you in the face when you do that? It’s a reflex.”

“But you never have.” Nikoletta pointed out, giving him a slanted grin.

“Yeah, ‘cause I stop myself every time. Those aren’t exactly the knuckle tattoos I’d want,” Adrian said, wringing his hands together as he imagined it. Nikoletta scoffed. He talked a lot of big game, she thought, but she’d only ever seen him fight when it was premeditated. He didn’t strike a single blow without considering it first. It was part of why she chose him as a confidant. He wasn’t reckless like the others were. 

“So… what sends you popping up over my shoulder like my sleep paralysis demon this time?” he asked, seemingly recovered from his bout of shock, and shot her a broad grin. Someone else probably would have found it charming. Nikoletta just pressed her lips together. 

“Someone’s missing.” she said, dark eyes scanning the cafeteria around her, “One of the newbies.”

“Hm. Yeah. The skinny one, right? With the-” Adrian guessed, gesturing vaguely at his own neck, “The one who always looks like he’s sad he can’t hang himself from the bars of his cell like the guy in Goonies?”

“He doesn’t-” Nikoletta started, but cut herself off with a huff, “The guy from Goonies didn't actually hang himself. But… right. Him.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s in medical,” Adrian pressed on, his voice just as light and conversational as it had been in the moments before, “Couple’a guys jumped him late last night. Didn’t see who, but they got some good hits in before the guards got there. Looked pretty bad.”

“Bastards.” Nikoletta growled, “They know the rules. He wasn’t marked.”

“Maybe they thought nobody would care.” he guessed, casually picking through his French fries without a care in the world. Sometimes he scared her. “I mean, the guy doesn’t even talk, why’s he even worth protecting?”

“It’s not about being worth protecting,” she said, “Why do you pay your insurance premium if you never get sick?”

“Ah, I never had insurance. Even the cheap ones denied me. I get in too many fights.”

“But you know how insurance works, don’t you?”

“Sort of.” Adrian said with a one-sided shrug. Nikoletta rolled her eyes. 

“Good enough.” she decided, “What I’m saying is… whether he’s ‘worth it’ or not, everyone gets my protection, whether they need it or not, unless they decide to stir up trouble. And he hasn’t stirred up any trouble. They shouldn’t have gone after him.”

This was far from the first time something like this had happened. Even with her system in place, there was no way to control every stroke of violence in Belle Reve. People got… pent-up after a while. Marking the unruly prisoners kept things peaceful in more ways than one - removing some violence from the pool entirely, and giving the others a chance to release their frustrations - but it wasn’t a perfect solution. She doubted there was any perfect solution to be found. 

And it was always the quiet ones who seemed to slip through the cracks.

“I need to find out who did this,” Nikoletta said, standing up from her seat in one decisive motion. Adrian twisted around to look at her, giving her a strange look.

“Y’know, if it were up to me, I’d just mark him now. Just to get it over with. His blood’s already in the water. I’d be willing to bet someone’s gonna rip him apart eventually. Might be better just to let it happen, save yourself a bigger fight. I mean… you’ve seen him, Nikki, the guy’s a walking target.”

This was the side of him that Nikoletta had to keep on a very short leash. Underneath his lighthearted and even charming exterior was the same thirst for violence as anyone else in Belle Reve, and she knew that. And as much as she liked having Adrian as her right hand man, she had to be careful about that ruthless streak of his. She had the sense that if it was a matter of his safety, even his escape from Belle Reve, he’d would break anybody’s neck without hesitation. Even hers. He was only loyal to her because she set her terms clearly and followed them.

In a way, that was more comforting. Loyalty based on emotion always felt… shaky. At least here, she didn't have to worry about some social faux pas meaning the difference between ally or enemy. She didn't need an emotional bond with Adrian. Really, she wasn't sure he formed emotional bonds with anyone. But as long as she kept her rules transparent, consistent, she could trust that he had her back.

Even when his ruthless side showed its face.

“No.” she replied with a shake of her head, “He hasn't done anything to deserve being marked.”

“C’mon, Nikki. I know you like him, but-”

“It’s not a matter of liking him. It's a matter of principle.” she huffed, “If I mark him without warning, people are going to start to wonder if they’re next. That’s just the fast track to me losing what little control I’ve managed to scrape together in here- and if I go down, you’re coming with me. And it’s a Band-Aid over a bullet wound. The ones who attacked him are just going to find another target if he’s gone. It doesn’t solve anything.”

She took a step back, comforted by the brush of shadows against her skin. There she paused, just for a moment, and met Adrian’s eyes. 

“And I don’t like him. He’s just another prisoner.”

“I dunno, you didn’t get this mad about the last guy who got beat up.”

“You were the last guy who got beat up.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Nikoletta rolled her eyes and fell into the shadows. 

She reemerged from a pool of darkness in the corner of the medbay, suddenly enough that a nurse in the hall flinched at the sight of her. Most of the staff had grown used to Nikoletta’s habit of slipping between rooms, but that didn’t make it any less startling to see her suddenly appear in a once-empty room like some kind of apparition.

It didn’t take long for her to find Abner. He was in the bay closest to the wall, far away from anyone or anything else. Ever since he’d arrived, she’d gotten the sense that the staff was a little afraid of him. She didn’t understand it - aside from the power dampener, he was about the most unassuming guy she could have imagined in a place like this. She doubted he even tried to shoo away the rats that sometimes scurried through the halls.

But the staff were afraid of her too. She didn’t usually give it a lot of stock. 

Abner’s eyes were closed, but the faintly pained expression on his face told her he wasn’t asleep. She didn’t blame him. Half his face was swollen in a brutal black eye, and the rest of his skin was equally littered with bruises and dried blood. Nikoletta wondered, briefly, if he’d even fought back. From the nature of the wounds, harsh and dark and from every direction, she guessed that he hadn’t. The power dampener had been removed from his neck, showcasing a dark band of bruising around his throat - like he’d been shoved to the ground and landed hard on the dampener. Nikoletta couldn’t help but wince at the sight. Some of the bruises were almost dark enough to look like her shadows, save for the faintest purple-red tint.

“Who attacked you?”

She must have been moving more quietly than she realized. Abner’s eyes snapped open with a sharp gasp, and he jolted upwards in the bed. A faint light glowed from somewhere near his wrists, but he tamped it down with a grimace just a moment later.

“Nikoletta?”

“Who else?” she replied, planting her hands on her hips and frowning again at the bruises painting his skin. She waved a hand vaguely in his direction, every movement sharp. “Who did this? Who attacked you?”

He opened his mouth to respond, then frowned and shut it again. He shook his head. 

“You won’t tell me.” Nikoletta guessed, clenching her jaw in anger, “Goddammit, Abner, I’m trying to help you! I’m trying to make sure this doesn’t happen again!”

“It won’t fix anything.”

“This isn’t like grade school bullies,” she insisted, “If you tell me who did it, the problem will go away. Permanently. I need to know who did this.”

“So you can kill them?”

“I haven’t killed anyone.” Nikoletta snapped. The words came out too harsh, and she wanted to wince. Abner flinched, but there was something deeper in his eyes. He raised his eyebrows. Nikoletta resisted the urge to scoff. “Listen. All I do is mark the ones who have it coming to them. I don’t sponsor any violence of my own, I just… rescind my protection. Anyone who’s marked has to fend for themself. That’s how it works.”

“But they all die anyway, don’t they?” he asked. His voice had gone soft. It sent a maelstrom of emotion through Nikoletta’s chest. She wanted to be angry - with him for poking holes in all the rules that should have kept him safe, and with his attackers for sparking all this to begin with - but strangely couldn’t find the emotion within herself. Abner’s eyes were tired and sad, the effect only magnified by the fact that one was nearly swollen shut. 

“Yes.” Nikoletta finally hissed, “They die. That’s the nature of Belle Reve. If I didn’t have my system in place, they’d have killed you too.”

“Maybe that’s not so bad…”

If it were up to me, I’d just mark him now. Just to get it over with. 

Nikoletta grimaced as the words echoed in her mind. Adrian wanted her to mark him. Whoever had attacked Abner wanted her to mark him. Hell- it seemed like Abner himself wanted her to mark him, just to rip the Band-Aid off. 

For the slimmest moment, she was tempted. 

But only for that one moment. 

“Stop that. You’re in pain. Death won’t bring you the relief you want.” Nikoletta muttered, “Trust me, I’ve been there myself. The only way to make things better is to fix them yourself. Now tell me who attacked you.” 

“STAR Labs?” he asked instead, apparently ignoring her demands, “Is that what brought you there? Is that why you… you hurt like that?”

“Of course it was fucking STAR Labs.” she said, reaching for the sleeve of her jumpsuit and tugging it up to expose the silvery track marks at her elbows, “You think I had these before STAR Labs? You think I was in prison before STAR Labs? You think I had to cover every fucking inch of my skin before STAR Labs?”

“Why are you angry?”

“Why aren’t you?” she fired back, “Look at yourself. Look at the bruises. It’s going to happen again if you don’t tell me who gave them to you.”

Abner was quiet for a long time. He stared down at his hands with a distant look in his eyes. Nikoletta shifted on her feet. It shouldn’t have been this difficult of a decision to make. It was a choice between safety or pain, and he didn’t have to do anything but give her a name. There wouldn’t even be any guilt in it, she thought. They’d struck the first blow. The Queen of Belle Reve had very particular rules, and those rules had been broken. It was all fair play.

Finally he looked up and met her eyes. Nikoletta lifted her eyebrows, awaiting his response. 

“Will you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” 

“Will you get me a glass of water? Please?” Abner asked, his voice falling back to that near-whisper of his, “The nurses don’t like coming over here. Not when I don’t have the…”

He trailed off but gestured vaguely at his neck. Nikoletta nodded. She still wasn’t sure what power it was that had the nurses so afraid of him - something to do with that odd light when she startled him, she was sure - but it must have been something big. Most things that came from STAR Labs were. 

Nikoletta took a step back and melted into the shadows. She was back a moment later, a half-filled plastic cup clutched in one gloved hand. She held it out, and Abner took the cup with a faint but grateful smile. He sat up and took a sip, grimacing like every motion hurt. Looking at him, she believed it. She hoped the nurses had at least given him some sort of painkiller before they vanished.

“I don’t like killing people.” Abner mumbled after a few long moments of silence. His fingers worried at the edges of the cup. He refused to meet her eyes.

“So you’d rather let yourself get beat to shit like this than tell me who did it? None of the blood is on your hands here, Abner. They attacked someone under my protection, so they deserve to have their own protections stripped away. It’s all just turnabout. Fairness. Really… if you tell me now, they’ll probably be gone before you get out of that bed. Why the fuck are you protecting them?”

“Because it’s still…”

Abner trailed off, shaking his head with a low sigh. 

“I’m sorry, Nik. I can’t.”

Nikoletta scoffed and took a step back from him. She couldn’t believe this - beaten so badly he’d landed in the medbay, covered in blood and bruises, so severe they’d even removed his power dampener, and he still refused to give her a name. Did he really have so much guilt for something he hadn’t even done? How had he managed to take down STAR Labs, with a hyperactive conscience like that?

The sadness in Abner’s eyes only deepened as Nikoletta took another step back. It was hard to look at. She sighed. 

“Do you need anything else? Before I go?”

“Um… no. I don’t think so.” he said, “But if you… if you wanted to come back sometime? Just to talk for a while? This place, it reminds me of the lab. It’s hard to be here.”

She could understand that. Normally she avoided the medbay like the plague for that same reason. She didn’t like her cell much either, but this was… worse. Nikoletta pursed her lips but gave him a singular nod.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Try to think of some things you want to talk about before I get back.”

She took a final step back, returning to the familiar not-quite-comfort of her shadows, and had already begin to slip into that other realm when she heard Abner’s soft voice one more time. 

“Nikoletta. Thank you.”

She was back in the cafeteria before she could even think to respond, but the words rattled around in her mind much longer than they should have. That whole interaction had been… odd. He was an odd man. In a lot of ways. She didn’t quite mind it, but it was certainly different from the interactions she was used to. 

“Any luck?” Adrian’s voice, deceptively chipper, pulled her from her thoughts. Nikoletta shot him a lukewarm look, irritation bubbling just underneath the surface. 

“No. He won’t give them up. For whatever God-forsaken reason.” she said, shaking her head, “Lands himself in a hospital bed but won’t even tell me who put him there.”

“I’m telling you, Nik, you could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just-”

“I’m not marking him. Especially not now. That sets a precedent I don’t want to set.”

“Suit yourself.” he muttered, though he clearly didn’t agree with her decision in the slightest. After a moment he shrugged, tossing it aside like water off a duck’s back. He waved a hand towards the opposite side of the cafeteria. “Well, in that case… I’ve been doing a little recon-”

“I’m assuming that means you walked straight up to their table and dared them to give you the gossip?”

“It was recon. I was very subtle.” Adrian repeated with a huff, “And it sounds like one of the guys that jumped him was that calendar guy, with all the tattoos? Heard one of the cameras got footage of it, just a couple frames. Y’know, it’s probably not a great idea to attack a guy in the middle of the night if you’re one of the four prisoners in here who can be recognized from the back si-”

“Thanks.” she said, cutting him off before he could get into one of his diatribes, “I’ll take care of it.”

____

“Julian.” 

This time, she meant to be startling. The tattooed criminal sat bolt upright in his cot, frantically scanning the shadows for where her voice had come from. Nikoletta took a step forward, allowing herself to be lit by the dull yellow bulbs that shone in from the hallway. The sight of her didn’t ease the fear on his face. 

“I heard you broke my rules.” Nikoletta continued, drawing each word out, “You attacked a prisoner who wasn’t marked. You know what the punishment for that is.”

All lingering dredges of sleep had vanished from his posture, and he looked at her with wary eyes. His fingers were curled tightly into his bedsheet, as if he were debating trying to smother her with it. Surely he had to know he was outmatched here. Surely he had to know that was why she confronted him in the dead of night, blanketed on all sides by her shadows.

“So what? Not like I did anything big, just knocked him around a little. Fuckin’ creep deserved it, too.” he replied, the words so loud and barbed that she could hear cots creaking in the neighboring cells. Tension drew into Nikoletta’s posture, both from the words and the growing audience to them. She took a step closer, aiming to administer her punishment swiftly and potently. With a mark, and with all the gossip that had been swirling over the ordeal, he’d be gone by breakfast. 

But they all die anyway, don’t they?

I don’t like killing people.

Nikoletta froze on the spot, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. It was a matter of principle. Julian broke her rules, she administered punishment, it resolved the conflict that landed Abner in the medical wing and secured Nikoletta’s reputation as a strict but objective ruler. Half a second’s action to repair a host of issues. All it took was one little death. 

But she found herself stepping back. Confusion crested across Julian’s face, in equal share with the same sharp wariness. 

“No more second chances.” Nikoletta warned, darkness dripping off every word, “Do better. This will be the only mercy you’ll get from me.”

And with that, she vanished into the dark.

[renhaswritersblock]

hello!! could you do w, i, and o for abner on the nsfw alphabet? i am so desperate for content abt him lmao 😭😭 thank u for still writing him

Abner Krill (Polka-dot-man) - NSFW Request (I, O, W)

Me: Oh boy, Abner! I’ve always been wanting to write something about this colorful dancing king queen since I watched TSS. This is going to be fun!

[Two/half months later.]

Me: *Staring intently at a bulletin board covered in pictures and notes with red string connecting to them, not knowing what time or day it is.*

Life [Walks in.]: Hey, uhh– friendly reminder that you still have that Government paper due tomorrow.

Me: MUTHERFU–

[Weeks later.]

Me [On the floor, defeated by the heavy mass of writer's block, reaching towards laptop to press enter.]: Finished– *Get’s crushed by an anvil of more writing tasks.*

—

A/N: I had made a Venn Diagram of Abs, Bob, and Lonny to differ the boys since they all fall under the meow meow category. So, thank you for the wait.

Ima say this takes place after the TSS movie – don’t care if he died, as James A. Janisse would maybe say, “No body, no count.” (Same with Flag. *kicks book of Necromancy For Dummies under bed*)

Warning: Usual NSFW stuff, nothing too extreme. Made some parts long (cause I do what I want). Some head cannons that totally didn’t come up to me randomly while I was halfway through finishing. No proofreading, I go down in style. Is there anything smutty in the first half? No, not really. Did I get carried away again and build a oneshot sort of story? Perhaps. Will I ever make a long smutty moment in any of the alphabet requests? Idk. Hotel? Trivago.

Leans toward female reader pov, but mostly towards gender neutral.

Anyhoo, happy readings!

===

I: Intimacy (*looks over at the letter C* Perhaps, I misjudged you.)

Abner lacks physical and emotional intimacy – and you can’t really blame him for it. Being locked up in Belle Reve and made fun of by the other inmates for so long – and to top it all off, his condition and past – he doesn’t have good social skills nor the confidence to approach someone for friendly/flirtatious banter. Even when he and his Task Force X friends go out to celebrate their new freedom at a local club, he still remains reserved and hidden. So he thought.

Throughout the night, Abner watched everyone have fun while sitting in a booth next to a large – totally not a man-eating shark – distinguish gentleman with a mustache, staring intently at a fish tank behind them. Cleo was out dancing wildly on the dance floor with a group of people, Harley sat across the room drinking with three intimidating women, and both Flag and Dubois went somewhere private to chat and drink alone. He consistently looks around the large room, scanning the neon interior and dancing occupant exotically swaying side to side, sipping his drink until his eyes land on a certain someone sitting by the bar. You.

You idly sat on one of the empty stools, swirling your drink in apathy and wearing the most eccentric, colorful outfit that made you stick out of the crowd. Abner nearly choked, spitting his drink through his nose, and erupted into a coughing fit. He didn’t notice Cleo returning to the booth, rushing to sit beside him, gently hitting his back. You were alone – in fact – you looked like you were waiting for someone, glancing at your surroundings and at your phone every minute. 

Supposedly, your date should’ve been here an hour ago. They texted you the address to this place to meet you at a time that was way past your curfew. Without a second thought, you agreed. You spend your whole evening prepping yourself to look nice. The only attire suitable for your first night out was the one that made it look like a clown puked on you. Looking around once more, you scan the room in hopes of seeing your date, not spotting Abner a few feet away staring gawkily at you, swiftly ducking his head to avoid glances.

Abner could feel his face burn red hot, he couldn’t hear Cleo’s muffled words over the sound of his heart pounding in his ear. He finally drew his attention towards Cleo when he heard her say, your glowing. Instantly, he slaps his face out of instinct to check if his glowing rash started popping up – knowing already he expelled the dots before they left. This is a first… Cleo gaped as his face began to flare up into dim hues of blue and red to green and yellow. His eyes move back to you, staring at your phone with a bleak expression. 

Honestly, you weren’t surprised when the screen showed they left you on read. You figured they would bail at the last minute, wasting half of your night to embarrass yourself. Thoughts began running through your head as you felt your chest grow heavy. I think that’s enough for one night. Holding back your tears, you took a shot of your drink and tapped the glass on the counter, going to spin your chair towards the exit when a tall man wearing what seems to be also a colorful button-up blouse blocks your way, startling you. Abner stood stiff as a board, nervously smiling at you. There was a moment of silence between you two. You watched as he glanced over and back at you, sending you mixed signals. Curious at what he was looking at, you turned and spotted two girls looking directly at you, one waving shyly, the other giving a thumbs up, and a– Wait is that a shark in disguise and a rat also waving at us?

You snap your attention back to the man in front of you, hearing him clear his throat out of discomfort before introducing himself as Abner, reaching his hand out towards you. To your dismay, you mindlessly took his hand, shaking it while telling him your name. Abner’s heart flutters at the sight of you smiling softly at him. You catch a glimpse of his cheeks glowing strangely, thinking it could be the lighting in the room. He takes a seat next to you, mumbling if he can buy you a drink, his smile widening when you accept the offer.

Shortly after your second drink, you hit it off pretty quickly, talking about certain things the two of you like, such as movies, and him introducing you to the group – keeping a very close eye on Nana– Bob doesn’t do anything to you. 

Soon you two were on the dance floor, swaying and bobbing your heads to the music, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face. Abner remembered sharing a long gaze with you, feeling as if time suddenly froze. He felt his cheeks boil achingly, noticing your expression contort into a bewildered look. Random patches of colorful glowing dots appeared and disappeared on his face. His eyes seemed to change color, following the primitive colors. 

Although you admired the way he looked, Abner on the other hand took it as a sign of being repulsed, causing something to trigger in his mind. But before he could let the imagery into his head, he hears you call out his name, slowly approaching him. You ask if you could hold his hand, reaching out for it when he accepts. You both stood in the middle for a while, only listening to the music playing on the speakers. Once he felt himself subside, he pulls towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You did the same, putting your arms around his neck, whispering reassuring words. He burrows his face into your shoulder, embracing the unknown feeling in his chest as his face emits a dim glow once again.

O: Oral 

*Abner: Clitoris?! Labia Majora?! Damn girl, how many pussies you got?!*

Abs is ok with giving oral to his partner. He’s a lil’ confuse at first, but he got spirit. He isn’t on the top 3, but somewhere around maybe 4-5. Krill prefers to use his hands to stimulate you than his mouth – since he can be flamboyant. It’s also a way for him to be slightly dominant and in control, edging you as soon as you near climaxing. 

When receiving oral from you, he melts into a whimpering puddle – he’s squirmish and restless at times, but only because you keep teasing his tip and shaft for revenge. To him, the sensation never gets old.

W: Wild Card (*cracks knuckles*)

*inhales*

Liiiiisten.

There’s a hc I have for this guy, but I prefer not to say what it is since it’s quite…vulgar. That and it also goes with a letter that rhymes with see. So here’s two headcannons that are pretty tame. Also, I hc Abner to be a vers.

Anyways.

Whenever Abner is having sexual intercourse with his partner, showing his emotions can be rather complex than his platonic relationship with you. Thus when he’s trying to gaze into your eyes, all you receive is a wide-eyed stare as he thrusts into you. Another aspect of his is uncontrollable giggling. At any moment, when you're riding him, something in his head switches and causes him to be a laughing mess. You remembered briefly stopping to ask him why he keeps laughing every single time you ask that question his response is the same, it feels good.

===

A/N: Hope ya'll enjoyed reading, and thank you for liking/reblogging. I find it hard to express my emotions sometimes and overthink it. When I see that I'm getting positive remarks on a couple of stuff I wrote, I acknowledge and appreciate the kindness, but never respond to it. So again, thank you so much for the support. Next one's gonna be a Johnson request, and then whatevers on the to-do list.

[kimhargreeves]

Happier- Polkadot Man x Reader (The Suicide Squad)

Summary: You're forced to be a part of Task Force X Again, there you meet an unusual man who constantly wishes to die, you decide to get closer to him and make his day ust a bit better. (This is part 1 of 2. So don't read this contains Spoilers!!)

Authors note: I freaking love David Dastmalchian and his portrayal in The Suicide Squad warmed my heart, and I really wanted more. I'm also working on a Ratcatcher 2 oneshot, Captain Boomerang and Javelin that'll be up soon. And happy birthday to James Gunn!!

"(Y/N)! Do you copy?!"

My ears continued to ring and my vision finally came back to me. I panicked and began to breathe heavily when I saw my entire team dead. We hadn't even stepped foot 5 minutes into Corto Maltese and everything went to shit because of that traitor.

"Fuck!" I shouted in anger and held my head.

"Good you're still alive." I heard Waller say.

"I want to go h-home." I whispered and began to wipe my tears away from my face.

"You know the mission." Waller's stern voice reminded. "Find the rest."

"Fucking bitch." I mutter.

I slowly stood up from the sand and couldn't help but continue to cry. I've barely known these people except for Harley and Rick, but we were all brought in without having a chance to say no. Harley and Rick weren't around. I looked around but saw no one alive.

Mongal was burned like toast, she didn't let go of that damn helicopter.

Javelin was shot many times dead alongside TDK.

Weasel fucking drowned because no one said anything about it.

Savant got scared and Amanda blew his head off because of the bomb implanted in our heads.

And that one..I walked over to Blackguards body and saw his face wiped off. "You got what you fucking deserved you traitor!" I strongly kicked him and looked at my surroundings.

There was nothing but many trees and fire surrounded me. Now this time, The Suicide Squad really died, well team A did...

*************

Rick Flag was the first I found and I never felt happier. I hugged him while he awkwardly hugged back, he was in charge of our missions back then too, and even thought we didn't know much about each other, I considered him a sort of older brother.

I was now reunited with him and his team. Ratcatcher 2, Bloodsport, King Shark, Peacemaker and Polkadot Man. And Harley reunited with us when we had tried to rescue her.

It was now night time and we were finally resting up before heading to Jotunheim. Rick and Bloodsport kept an eye on The Thinker do he wouldn't try to escape.

I looked back and frowned and felt sorry, not for myself for once but for the man known as Polkadot Man or Abner Krill. I didn't say anything while we were discussing a few plans for the project Starfish but he would make some comments or dry jokes about being killed off.

"What got ya so gloomy, (Y/N)?" Harley wrapped an arm around me and saw me looking at the sad man who kept to himself.

"Ooh ya like him don't 'cha?!"

I felt my face turning red and my heart beating s but faster. I didn't deny it, but I hate seeing people so lonely and sad. He was sitting on his own outside by the balcony.

"I wonder why he's always so distant.." Harley hummed and her smile faded a bit.

"Maybe he just needs someone, a friend..you're a good friend, (Y/N)! Why not try talkin' to him?"

I already tried to but everytime I do he'd avoid me or walk away. I saw him tiredly running his hands down his black hair and closing his eyes.

We were resting up for today and Rick was somewhere with Bloodsport now. I looked around and noticed Peacekeeper writing down something on his notebook, Ratcatcher was with Sebastian her pet rat..she kinda reminded me of Cinderella with the whole rat's thing...Harley began calling her that without her knowing. And King Shark was looking outside through the window while it continued to rain

"Maybe he needs some space." I whispered and Harley rolled her eyes.

"Bullshit! Now get over there." She pushed me forward and I gave her a look but she ran away.

I walked forward and saw his brown eyes now on me again, looking at me with a very confused expression. "It's a beautiful nice, right?"

"Yes.."

"Aren't you hungry? I made food for us and noticed you didn't touch your plate."

"I'm not hungry..."

I decided to walk and sit down next to him. He kept staring quiet do I decided to speak again. "It's so peaceful and quiet out here, if only it were like this all the time. Look, even the stars and moon seem to shine brighter."

I point up glance at him also admiring the sky. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is..."

I look back at him and saw him looking at me, he quickly looked away and tried to hide his face. I stated back at him surprised and smiled when I realized what he meant by that.

"You know.. I've lost a lot of people I've loved too." I assumed he's always like this because of someone he's lost in the past.

"My parents were killed by someone who was after us, they were good parents, they rescued a couple of kids that were being punished for their parents actions. The killers were awful people, my parents worked for them but never killed anyone, they figured out who was saving the kids, so they arrived one night and shot my parents dead. I was hiding and saw everything.."

I remember everything like it was yesterday. "I became suicidal and harmed myself everyday, but I stopped. I remembered how much my parents loved me and they would never want to see me like this, so I trained hard and killed the men responsible for their deaths. The police were surprised by the bloody mess I made, so that's what got me locked up in Belle Reve."

I glance over and see Abner looking at me, so I quickly wipe my tears and hug my legs close to my chest.

"I never had any friends and never wanted one, everyone I seemed to get close to died, but Harley came along. She's hard to control, but she was the first person who was ever kind to me. I felt safe and happy having someone care for me. I won't pressure you in opening up to me or the rest of us..but I'll wait as long as you feel comfortable and happy with yourself."

His dark eyes seemed to change, he almost looked at ease and his eyes seemed to get cloudy but with tears.

"....I killed my mom."

I turned to look at him surprised and saw no emotions on his face. "She experimented on my brothers and sisters, I had to do it before she could harm any one else."

Now that was a huge turn of events. "Oh.." I fell silent and didn't know what else to say.

"I don't want you to see me." We looked at each other and Abner seemed to panic a bit. "That's n-not what I meant. I've been avoiding you because I don't want you or anyone else to see my polkadots."

Bloodsport did mention him having strange polkadot powers. "I have to get rid of them, use my powers twice a day. I can control them and get rid of enemies, burn them."

"That is amazing." I smile and see him now looks at me back surprised. "I would love to see them someday. I-I mean I eventually will cause we're on this stupid Starfish mission."

Abner smiled a bit and kept his dark eyes on mine. "I don't like killing people you know?" I noticed him sitting a bit closer to me. I made it seem like I didn't notice, to not scare him. He's like a puppy.

"We'll get out of this, you'll see." I smile and try to remain positive. "What would you do once we get out?"

Abner stayed silent and seemed to think but nothing really came to his mind. "I don't really know."

"I know of a few places I could show you, that's if you'd like to stick with me. I gotta warn you I can be quite a handful at times." I joke and finally saw him smile again.

"I would like to, (Y/N)."

We stood quite and continued to rest and look up at the sky. I smiled to myself when I felt his fingers brushing my hand, I opened my palm and placed my hand onto his. "I think I can get used to this." I felt my cheeks blush when I heard him mutter to himself that.

[cosplayproblemsposts]

New maybe Two-part oneshot

I have just watched suicide squad 2 and now i feel like I should write for polka-dot man aka Abner krill. So with this saying forth i’m writing him a one shot so ye.

[embodyingchaos]

Hiiiii can I request something fluff with abner krill like maybe dating headcanons ( Ik it’s pretty basic but I’m a sucker for them 😭) honestly anything that’s fluffy and cute lol

❥ hi there, darling! MY BABY ABNER KRILL AAAAAA ofc i can write dating hcs for THE polka-dot man! i hope you enjoy them! (I'M SORRY THAT THEY'RE SORTA LONG)

dating polka-dot man a.k.a abner krill headcanons warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, ptsd, a bit suggestive at the end HEHEH

OKAY OKAY SO, i would say that abner would definitely not be the one to ask you out first, and if he did, he would be a stuttering mess like “w-would y-you maybe think about.. going on a date?” and you’d be like oh yeah totally, with who? and then he’ll be like “with me” AND HE’D WHISPER IT REALLY SOFTLY AND YOU’D BE LIKE “OH- OH MY GOD YES” HEEHEH

and then every where you guys go for your dates, he would overthink every little thing, like did he pick the right place? did he order the right meal? do you like this kind of thing or should he have asked you where you wanna go and you’ll answer the same thing every time “anywhere is good enough as long as it’s with you” AND HE’D BE BEET RED LIKE BLUSHING CRAZY

abner would definitely be tense for the first few dates before slowly loosening up and relaxing, but even that will take a while

dating abner might be tiring at times, he constantly questions why you’re with someone like him, he’ll constantly be worried that you’ll leave him, but all in all, you’re willing to reassure him with words of affirmation

abner definitely calls you babe, or baby, or just by your name, he doesn’t strike me as a nick name type

though, if you call him any nickname like darling, sweetheart, my love, HE WILL MELT, BE IT IN YOUR ARMS OR ONTO THE FLOOR, HE’LL GET FLUSTERED AND HIDE HIS FACE IN ANY WAY AAAAAA

abner is definitely a little spoon, he feels safe and comfortable in your arms, and every time he’s having a panic attack or ptsd hits, the best way to calm him is to embrace him

he would get nightmares in the middle of the night about his mother abusing him all over again but it would be okay because you're there to hold him tight and tell him that she can't hurt him anymore

he would do the same for you if you had a nightmare or a troubling past, he wouldn't know what to say, but i'd feel like he'd memorise the things you say to him and then repeat them back to you, because he learned from the best ofc

i’d think he gets a little bit jealous, but he trusts you, but yk when insecurity hits, everything just gets a little foggy, he doesn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want to be a nuisance but you can tell, you’d always kiss his cheek when you know he’s feeling a tad bit insecure and that brightens him up real quick

abner will protect you in any way he can, even if he knows he isn’t that physically strong to win in a fight, he’ll defend you and your honour any time

though usually it’s you who protects him by standing up to people who call him names or are rude to him, he has to calm you down and pull you away so you’d stop cussing at them

i am not including when he’s put in belle reve bc in my headcanons, he doesn’t get sent to prison for murdering his abusive and insane mother bc she definitely had it coming

I WOULD LIKE TO HEADCANON THAT THERE WAS THIS ONE TIME YOU TRIED ON HIS POLKA-DOT MAN SUIT BECAUSE YOU WERE CURIOUS HOW IT WOULD LOOK ON YOU, and he walks in on you and he’s like :0 jaw-dropped, eyes wide open, and you’re like “oh you’re back! i wanted to see how your suit looked on me! i think i look pretty cooOOL-!” yeah, uh, you’re way too attractive for your own good, good luck for the night

[practically-an-x-man]

Shadows and Fallen Stars (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: Nikoletta and Abner share their experiences in STAR Labs

Tags: post-TSS, established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of abusive families, needles, experimentation, happy ending

Word Count: 3k ____

She was cold again.

It happened a lot. Really, she was cold all the time, but sometimes it shifted from the usual disregarded half-chill into something deeper, impossible to ignore. Back in Belle Reve, that had meant nothing at all. She could find herself a cup of coffee if she was lucky, but usually there was nothing to do but wait it out.

The worst of that was that it hurt. Being so cold, for so long, knowing it couldn't kill you but also could never be cured... it wasn't just the cold itself that hurt, but how constant it was.

Here, there was more she could do. Here she could make a cup of tea, a pot of soup, wrap herself up with blankets and a heating pad to try and imbue herself with a little more life. She had a few more options. Finding genuine warmth was still effectively a pipe dream, but at least she didn't have to sit and wallow in the chill like she used to.

Nikoletta picked herself up from the bed, throwing one of the blankets around her shoulders as she stood up.

The apartment was a shoebox. It was hardly bigger than her old cell back in Belle Reve. But at least it was hers, genuinely hers, under her name and paid for in an entirely legal manner. That was new for her. She wasn't quite sure she was fond of it yet. Her life in Belle Reve, even her life on the streets before, were both so much simpler than everything she had to balance in this so-called "real world". More painful, yes, but... simpler.

Still shivering, she ducked through the doorway and squinted at the sunlight that pooled in the living room beyond. It had been darker in the bedroom than she realized. Maybe that had contributed to the chill. The shadows usually did.

Abner was stretched out sideways on the couch, propped up only enough to look at the old TV across the room. The picture was fuzzy and the screen was small, but... it was a TV. Still more than she'd had in either of her prior lives.

"Hey," he mumbled, turning his body to look at her with gentle eyes. Nikoletta offered him about as much of a smile as she could muster, which wasn't much.

If there was anything that coaxed a little more of a smile from her, it was the sight of him sprawled out on the couch like he was. When they'd first arrived here, months ago, he'd taken to perching on the very end of it, knees tucked up tight to his chest like he was afraid to take up space. He'd opened up slowly, little by little, but this was the first she'd seen where he completely, unabashedly let himself be comfortable here. Or... anywhere, really.

He looked healthier, too. The exhausted bags under his eyes had lessened, though not entirely disappeared, and his frame had filled out from malnutrition-gaunt to merely slender. A bit of dark stubble clung to his jaw, drawing attention to his impressive bone structure. And he was smiling. That expression alone contributed to a lot.

"Hey," Nikoletta responded, trying to match his gentle tone. She slid into the armchair at her right and drew her legs up, trying to pull in a little more warmth. "What're you watching?"

"I dunno. Reruns." Abner replied, almost sighing the words. The shift in topic had him looking a little lost in thought, and Nikoletta frowned.

"You okay?"

The Queen of Belle Reve would never have asked a question like that. The Queen of Belle Reve would never have spoken so softly. The Queen of Belle Reve would have told herself she didn't care about the crease that had appeared between Abner's dark brows.

She knew that expression. That was the face he wore when he was walking back through memories - and not all of them pleasant. Nikoletta pressed her lips together. She wondered how many placidities she'd have to stumble through before she could get to what was really on his mind.

"The lab?" she asked, unable to help herself. The crease between his eyebrows deepened for a moment, but Abner nodded.

"My mom used to like this show," he said, his eyes flashing back to the TV for a moment, "We'd watch it all together on the weekends. Me and my brothers and sisters, all piled in on the couch. Mom got her own chair, of course."

"You weren't... locked up?"

"No. Not usually." he answered, seemingly oblivious to how bluntly the question had left her lips, "Only when she took us down to treatment. Otherwise we just stayed in her floor of the building. It was like an apartment. There wasn't a lot to do, so we made up games."

Abner paused, dropping his eyes to the floor. The expression on his face... Nikoletta wanted to reach for him. But she twisted her fingers into the folds of the blanket, unable to move.

"And then they started getting sick." he finally continued. His voice was heavy with emotion. His dark eyes darted around the room wildly before settling on the TV. "And we couldn't play games like we used to. Everyone was so tired all the time... we could barely remember what the rules were. Some of them got really mean, too. We'd have arguments over everything. So eventually we just... gave up and watched TV instead. All crowded in on the couch."

That explained why he'd been so contained when they first arrived. He wouldn't let himself claim space now because he'd never been allowed to before. He got one tiny corner of the sofa, squished in with the rest of his family, and he thought that was what he deserved.

"Sometimes that was all we could do." Abner said, eyes still fixed on the TV like he'd entered some sort of trance, "We were just so... so tired. I still get tired now, but it was worse back then. I don't even know how long we were there, it's just... blurry. I just remember being crammed in with everyone else, watching old reruns of this show none of us really cared about."

It seemed wrong to feel jealous. He'd been through something terrible. So terrible that he still saw echoes of his mother almost everywhere he went.

But at least he hadn't gone through it alone. At least he had something like a normal life while he went through it. A couch, a TV, a family. Dysfunctional or not, it was more than Nikoletta had ever been given.

"And then Sven died. There was a little more room on the couch after that. But nobody moved," Abner continued, still lost in his thoughts. His eyes were distant, staring years into the past. "Then Deanna. And Maggie escaped. Mom was angry for a long time when that happened. I just remember wondering why she hadn't gotten the rest of us out with her. Maybe she thought Mom would come after us if we all went together. But she just left us."

He let out a deep sigh, his breath trembling faintly as if he were holding back a flood of emotion.

"The couch felt so empty with them gone. And my mom just... didn't care. She said the others were weak, and we were better because we were stronger than them. We were better because we stayed. But I... I didn't feel strong. And I didn't want to stay." he admitted, "And I... I burned it down. With the dots. I just wanted to make a distraction, but they- they hit one of the power generators and the whole building went up. They locked me up before I could figure out if any of my siblings made it out of there. I still don't know."

"I'm sorry," Nikoletta finally found her voice, but winced at how pitifully inept the words sounded, "I'm... I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I'll find out someday," Abner decided, the haunted look gradually fading from his eyes, "How- how was it for you? The lab?"

Nikoletta shook her head with a grimace. Her own set of memories burned behind her eyes, demons awoken and dancing like something out of Fantasia. She wished they'd go back to bed. She still couldn't stop the shivering.

"Not like that." she forced herself to answer. He'd shared his story, after all. It was only fair she shared hers. She took a deep breath, forcing steel into her tone. It was the only way she'd make it through this. "They had me in a cell. Alone. I had a cot, and a toilet, but that was about it. No TV. No siblings. Nothing to pass the time. It was almost like the cells in Belle Reve."

As she spoke, she found herself tucking her limbs more tightly in. It felt as if even speaking the words made her colder - like her memories were even more soaked in shadow than the present.

"They'd take me down to one of the labs for their experiments. I still don't know what all they injected me with. I blocked most of it out. I just know that it... it hurt. And after the first few rounds... I learned to fight back." she continued. The words were stilted, like reading from a teleprompter, but that was the only way she could make herself continue. If she slowed down, even for a moment, the story would never leave her lips again.

"The first time I fought, I landed half the guards in the hospital. Broken arms, scratched corneas. I even bit a guy. From what I heard, he had to get a tetanus shot, just to be safe. That one felt good. I grew up on the streets, I wasn't above fighting dirty," she said, a rare flicker of pride entering her voice before dying out again, "So they started pumping gas into the chamber before they came to get me. So I couldn't fight back."

She still remembered the feeling - just conscious enough to feel afraid, but too dazed to fight back. Just tethered enough to her own body to feel the bruising grip of the guards as they dragged her out of her cell, but hardly able to move her limbs for all the drugs they made her inhale.

"They waited for it to wear off before they started the tests. Said they didn't want to skew the data." she sighed, rubbing at the silvery track marks that ran down her arms like waterfalls against her dark skin. So many needles. She couldn't count all the tests they'd done on her before the shadows finally stuck.

"It was like one big, endless paradox." Nikoletta continued after another moment, "They had a whole team of scientists, used these machines that had to cost millions, but they said they didn't have the funding to feed me every day. They ran tests wondering why my body temperature had dropped almost into hypothermia, but they kept my cell too cold and kept pumping those shadows into me. They complained that I hardly talked, that they couldn't fix my problems if I didn't tell them what they were, but they wouldn't even speak to me by my name. They just called me by this serial number."

She remembered the number, of course, but she couldn't bring herself to repeat it. That would have been too much. She wasn't their little project anymore. She never would be again. That number belonged to a broken girl in a cage, and she was not that girl.

"I was there for... a month, I think?" Nikoletta concluded, "They did tests every few days. Finally the shadows just... stuck, and I learned how to use them, and I got out of there. Never went back."

Her shivers had turned to shudders, racking her body in ripples of chill and pained memories. The room was silent for far too long, save only for the low, tinny crackle of the TV in the background. Nikoletta looked up just long enough to notice Abner's eyes on her, dark and flooded with something like pity.

For the briefest instant, she was hit with a well of hot red anger. She didn't want to be pitied. She'd had enough of that when she first left the lab. There was a reason she'd built up such a reputation for herself. Power was better than pity.

But Nikoletta caught herself bristling and paused. This wasn't pity. She knew this wasn't pity. Abner had never pitied her like the others did. This was... something gentler. Empathy. Concern.

"Are you still cold?" his voice, quiet and hesitant like it used to be, pushed through that silence like a searchlight through a pea-soup fog. His dark eyes danced over her figure, taking in her cramped and trembling frame.

"Always."

"Want to... um, want to come lay down? Here?" Abner offered, shifting on the couch to make room.

"No, it's okay, I was just-"

She stopped mid-sentence. Why was she refusing?

Was it because she thought it wouldn't help? No. Organic warmth was about the only thing that chased off the shadows, she'd learned. It had plagued her for years. It was only recently, very recently, that she could allow herself that luxury.

Was it because she didn't want to be close to him? Of course not. Physical touch scared her as much as it did warm her, but she liked being near him. And he didn't seem to care that her skin was always a little too cold to be pleasant.

She knew it would help, much more than other fixes like a cup of tea or an extra blanket. And she knew she wanted to be close to him, frightening as that thought was. Maybe... maybe that was why she refused. Not because she knew it wouldn't help, but that she was scared of how well it would. She didn't want to rely on anyone else.

Besides, she could see what he was really asking. Behind the initial offer was something else. Something for him. He said "let me warm you" at the same time he said "crowd this empty space for me". He needed it too.

"Nik?"

"Okay," she surrendered, shaking off the last of her thoughts and sliding onto the sofa with the blanket still wrapped around her. Abner shifted a little, sorting out the tangle of limbs when she first laid down beside him, then wrapped her in his arms.

And Nikoletta burst into tears.

It was almost a reflex at this point. She'd been so deprived of touch for so long, years on end, that she didn't seem to know what to do with it when it came. Emotions flooded her with something as simple as a brush of the hand.

And the influx of memories certainly couldn't have helped.

To his credit, Abner didn't so much as flinch when the crying started. Now three months in, he was more than used to this odd little reflex of hers, and didn't let it faze him. He just tightened his grip and ducked his head, surrounding her with his touch.

Nikoletta twisted around and pressed her face into his chest, waiting for her tears to subside. It was more of a nuisance than anything else, by now. Abner ran his hand in smooth circles over her back, all too patient with her.

Moments like this made her feel small. She was still warming up to the concept. There was a part of her that felt scrutinized, like an animal in a glass enclosure, powerless in a way that she never wanted to feel again. There was a reason she made herself so untouchable back in Belle Reve. It was impossible to feel small when she was at the top of the food chain.

But here was something new. She felt small, but she felt safe. Protected. That was... strange. Very strange. Yet she couldn't get enough of it.

"Warming up?" Abner murmured. His voice was quiet, though missing the hesitance she'd begun to grow familiar with. Nikoletta nodded against his chest. She'd been so lost in thought that she'd almost forgotten the cold. And now, finally warm in a way that had seemed impossible for years, she found herself growing faintly drowsy. She wondered how long it had been since she'd last slept peacefully. Far too long, to say the least.

"Maybe we should get a cat," he added after a few more minutes. Nikoletta lifted her head enough to shoot him a confused look. Abner lifted his eyebrows - the impression of a shrug without jostling her. She wondered where he'd picked that up.

"You said organic warmth helps, right? Living things. So I mean... we could get a cat. And it could curl up on your lap when you're chilly. Keep you warm," he explained, then tilted his head, "Or a dog. But I'm more of a cat person."

"We can't afford a cat." Nikoletta mumbled.

"We could find the money. I'm sure we could." Abner insisted, though a note of that familiar hesitance had crept back into his voice. It was better than shutting down entirely. When they'd first begun living together, even something as simple as a discussion over dinner plans or TV channels would send him into a painful silence, and he'd fold in on himself. There was no separation between mild disagreement and total shutdown. He wasn't used to his voice being heard at all. But he'd gotten better.

"And it... it would help. I really think it would," he concluded, nearly whispering.

"A stray for a couple of strays?" Nikoletta replied. A faint smile crept onto her face at the thought. This little... not-quite-family was continuing to grow. She didn't mind it.

"Heh. Yeah," Abner agreed, ducking his head to kiss her temple, "A stray for a couple of strays."

[practically-an-x-man]

Relapsed (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: Months after her shadows were drained in the battle against Starro, Nikoletta finds an unpleasant surprise

Tags: post-TSS, established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, mild body horror, soft ending

Word Count: 2.7k

____

She woke in the middle of the night, blinking in the darkness.

That wasn't unusual in the slightest. It was rare, very rare, that she made it through a full, uninterrupted night of sleep. Either her dreams were flooded with turbulent nightmares and painful memories, or she woke up shivering.

But tonight she seemed... fine. Confusingly fine. She couldn't remember any particularly rotten nightmares, and she was actually somewhere adjacent to warm with Abner right beside her. She'd slept through worse than this. Much worse.

So what had woken her?

She pondered that thought for an extra moment before concluding she'd probably just been stepped on by one of the cats, or something equally innocuous.

Nikoletta turned over in the bed, finding a grip on the topsheet to tug it back over her body.

Shadows spread out from her touch.

For a split second, she thought it was just a trick of the light. Something about the angle, the light streaming in from the window, her half-conscious mind filling the gaps in any way it could. Because she hadn't spread shadows in months. Not since Starro. She was past that years-long nightmare.

Wasn't she?

Nikoletta's fingers slid along the fabric, leaving an unmistakable trail of inky darkness in their wake.

Her drowsiness vanished in a heartbeat, like the tide before a tsunami. Panic flooded in its wake, fast and all-consuming.

She was moving before she even realized it, wildly kicking herself off the bed - away from Abner, away from the cats, away from anything she could ruin with her shadows. Her limbs tangled in the sheets, keeping her rooted to the bed for one terrifying moment before she wriggled herself loose.

Her knee hit Abner's thigh somewhere under the covers, and raw fear stole her breath for a moment. She was suddenly grateful for the twist of sheets, for her constant chill keeping her in full sleeves, for the few thin layers of fabric that still separated her from him. He'd already been marked by her once. She couldn't imagine granting him that curse again.

Finally she freed herself from the bed and crashed unceremoniously to the floor, clocking her hip on the nightstand as she fell. Nikoletta's fingers dug into the carpet beneath her - cheap vinyl, thank God, no shadows left behind. Nikoletta scrambled for the door (aluminum doorknob to safe, safe linoleum on the other side), trying to place some distance between her dangerous touch and the things she loved.

She reached the door and pulled it open, careful that her fingers touched only the doorknob and not the wood around it, and pushed her way into the living space beyond it. The carpet was safe, the linoleum was safe- but she was careless about the doorjamb, and her bare feet left dark streaks on the wood as she crossed it. Dimly, through her haze of panic, she could hear Abner shifting on the bed.

"Nikki?" he asked, voice raspy and confused from sleep, "Was it another nightmare?"

She couldn't answer. She couldn't speak. She pushed herself a little further into the kitchenette, pushed until she found the refrigerator - metal and plastic, blessedly immune - at her back. Streetlights shone in from the window across the room, granting her a brief glimpse at herself. Her pajamas were stained in odd patterns, like she'd been sweating ink, from everywhere the fabric touched her skin. Her breath came too fast, in harsh and jagged bursts.

"Nik? Hey, are you okay?" Abner called out, and a moment later she saw him silhouetted in the doorway. He passed a hand over his eyes, trying to rub the sleep out of them, then frowned as his gaze fell on her. He took a step closer.

"Don't touch me!" Nikoletta blurted, all too sharp, and grimaced as he flinched. She shook her head, struggling to pull her thoughts together, "They're back- the shadows, they're- they're back. You can't touch."

She watched his eyes dance over her figure as he caught up to speed. Her whole body was shaking, not from cold but from the raw adrenaline pumping through her veins. And to think, she'd had a whole four months where she didn't have to be afraid of herself. Nikoletta wrung her hands together so tightly her knuckles hurt.

Something passed over Abner's face a moment later. In the darkness of the room, Nikoletta couldn't quite tell what it was. But he took another step towards her- and held up his hands in surrender when she tried to shift away.

"It's okay. I won't touch," he assured her, crouching to meet her eyes, "What can I do to help?"

"Gloves, I- I need my gloves."

"You got rid of your gloves," Abner pointed out, though he stood up anyway. Nikoletta's eyes traced his motions, though she still couldn't bring herself to move from the floor.

He was shockingly calm for the circumstances, she thought. Calm and patient and gentle like he'd dealt with this a thousand times before. She had no idea how. This was the man who could hardly bring himself to change the TV channel when it switched to something he didn't want to watch, and yet here he was as steady and decisive as an EMT staunching a gunshot wound. Nikoletta sat curled on the floor, shaking uncontrollably with her knees pulled tight to her chest.

Abner was back a moment later, a pair of thick winter gloves in one hand and a box of blue nitrile gloves in the other. She had no idea where he'd found either. Nikoletta reached for the disposable gloves, then froze. She didn't trust herself to get them out of the box without brushing his fingers in the process.

Without missing a beat, Abner set the winter gloves down beside him and worked a pair of nitrile gloves out of the box. He offered them to her, pinching them by the fingers so she could safely grab them. Nikoletta tugged the gloves onto her hands, feeling marginally better to have that shield between her and the rest of the world.

Abner reached out, wordlessly offering her his hand. Nikoletta hesitated. The gloves were old, found in some God-knows-where corner of the apartment, and they didn't quite fit her hands. Without so much as a sigh, Abner reached back into the box and pulled another set of gloves over his own fingers.

Two layers. That was better. Safer. When he offered her his hand a second time, she took it. Abner squeezed her fingers once, and Nikoletta let out a shuddering breath.

"Better?"

"A little."

For a minute or two, they just stayed there: hands clasped through thin rubber gloves, sitting together on the cold linoleum floor. Slowly, Nikoletta's heart seemed to settle back into her chest, her panic bleeding out of her in slow ripples.

"I don't know what happened, it just-" she found herself stammering, looking down at her shadow-stained clothing, "It just came back, like it used to be. I don't know... I don't know what to do. I- I can't stay here if the shadows are back. There's just too much I could ruin."

Abner didn't respond at first, though he squeezed her hand again to let her know that he'd heard her. She could see the gears turning in his mind, working through undisclosed thoughts.

"Okay." he finally said, "Here's what we're going to do."

There was a shocking level of assuredness in his voice. He didn't hesitate, he didn't go quiet, he didn't stammer through the words. It felt as if they'd switched roles, her timid and trembling while he took charge. But it was comforting to know at least one of them had their head on straight.

"We're gonna go out to the lot behind the building. Where I go to release the dots, remember?" Abner asked, waiting for her to nod before he continued. He still hadn't let go of her hand, and gave it another gentle squeeze as he spoke, "And you're going to let out as many shadows as you can, okay? Just let them go, like you did when you saved me."

"How do you know that will-"

"Because it worked once. You did it once." he insisted, "Can we at least try?"

Nikoletta pursed her lips, but nodded. There was no harm in trying. Nothing to lose and everything to gain. And it was safer to be outside than in here, surrounded by wood and cotton and a pair of all-too-affection cats. She didn't know where Baron and Barbie had run off to, and she didn't want to find out when one of them brushed up against her leg and painted their fur with permanent ink.

Abner stood up, carefully offering her his other hand as he did. He didn't reach for any more touch than that, though his pajamas covered most of his skin anyway. All this carefulness reminded her of the early days - earlier - but his confidence was brand new.

It only took about thirty steps to get from the apartment to the dirt lot behind it. That was part of why they'd picked this apartment above any others: Abner needed a place to expel the dots, twice a day, without causing undue damage to what was around him. The dirt was soft but dry under Nikoletta's bare feet, a trail of shadowy footprints following her.

Abner paused in the center of the lot, dark eyes flicking over Nikoletta's figure for a moment before he spoke again.

"I'm going to go upstairs and change the sheets," he said, "And see if anything else got, um, shadowed."

"The doorjamb," she muttered, "By the bedroom. It's ruined."

"Could be worse," Abner pointed out, "That's something we can replace."

She nodded, though she found herself twisting her fingers uncomfortably into the hem of her nightshirt. Her gloves squeaked with the motion.

"Check the cats." Nikoletta blurted as another thought struck her, "Please. And- and yourself. You were right there in the bed with me."

"I will."

It wouldn't have made much difference if she'd brushed against Baron. He was a black cat anyway. But Barbie - short for Barbershop Quartet, for no reason other than she'd been found in an alley behind a hair salon - was an American shorthair, pale gray and striped, and any accidental touch would be obvious. Say nothing, of course, of Abner and how pale he was. Even the marks on his back were almost supernaturally stark against his skin. At least he could hide those with a shirt.

Abner reached out, clasping her shoulder and giving it a brief but comforting squeeze. Then he was gone, and Nikoletta was left alone.

She peeled the gloves off her hands and crouched in the dirt. She'd let go of those shadows once, in a desperate attempt to save Abner's life. And it had worked. She'd thought for months that the spray of shadows across his back would be the last mess her touch would ever leave.

Apparently she was wrong. They'd keep coming back. The shadows were an endless poison, forever welling up inside her.

Nikoletta set her hands in the dirt and purged herself of the darkness.

When Abner released his dots, he claimed it was the best he felt all day. As the day went on, he got more tired, more achey, more sick, as the virus took hold of him again. Gruesome as it was, she always found herself grateful for his little twice-daily ritual. It was the most unburdened he ever looked, and he deserved to be free of pain. She only wished it last longer than the sparse few hours he got.

But for her it was the opposite. Purging her shadows did not feel good. It did not relieve her of any pain or sickness. Instead she only felt hollow and exhausted when she finished, hardly able to hold herself upright. Despite the muggy nighttime air around her, she felt chilled to the bone. Something about the shadows kept her together. Without them, she was weak.

Nikoletta ran her shaking hands over the front of her shirt, exhaling a sigh of relief when no more shadows followed the touch. It had lasted a whole four months the last time she'd drained them - but that was life-or-death, and she'd been unconscious for days afterwards. She didn't know how long it would last this time. Days? Weeks? Or would she be going through this whole routine again tomorrow night?

"The cats are alright." Abner's soft voice came from behind her, an unknown number of minutes later, "Not a mark. Me too. Everything's okay. As long as... you're okay too?"

"I'm fine." Nikoletta mumbled as he approached and crouched beside her, "Safe to touch again. For a while."

"It would be okay either way," he said, then reached out to set his palm on her knee. He hesitated a little before he did it, like he was expecting her to pull away. "We'd find a way to make it work. It wouldn't be any worse than dealing with my dots."

Nikoletta nodded, though she bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't quite believe him, but she couldn't argue without it sounding like his condition was a burden to her. She was a little impressed, all things considered. It was a clever choice of words.

She moved to stand, but her knees crumpled under her. There was that weakness, her strength drained alongside her shadows. Abner darted ahead to catch her before she could fall, and a heartbeat later had lifted her into his arms.

She'd been surprised the first time he carried her. It was on her way out of the hospital - they'd insisted on pushing her out to the car in a wheelchair, but she hadn't realized she was still too weak to walk until they'd made it to the parking lot of the apartment they lived in now. After a moment or two of debate, wondering how to get her up the flight of stairs when she couldn't even stand on her own, Abner had finally come to a decision and lifted her into a bridal carry.

She hadn't been fond of it then. She wasn't sure she was fond of it now. Vulnerability as a whole was a difficult thing for her, and what was more vulnerable than being carried?

But it was either that or wait out here until she got a little strength back. And that could be all night. Besides... if it were going to be anyone, she'd rather it be him.

"I'm glad it happened now." Abner mumbled, seemingly out of the blue as he helped her back into the apartment. Baron and Barbie brushed against his legs and mewled softly as he stepped inside, and a faint smile twisted at Abner's lips.

"I wish it hadn't happened at all," Nikoletta huffed in response. Abner shrugged as he set her down on the bed. He lingered just an extra moment, daring to lean in and kiss her forehead before he pulled back.

"I mean if it was going to happen. If it couldn't be avoided. I'm glad it happened now, and not another time," he explained, "I mean, if it happened earlier, I wouldn't know how to help you. And if it happened later, we might have forgotten how to deal with it. And now we know how to fix it if- when it happens again."

Baron hopped up onto the bed and picked his way over to Nikoletta's side. He bumped his face into her hand with a rumbling purr, demanding affection. Nikoletta forced herself not to freeze or flinch. It was fine. Everything was fine. The problem had been dealt with.

"I guess you're right." she sighed, finally convincing herself to run her fingers through Baron's soft black fur, "I guess... if it had to happen, it was better we got it over with."

Abner nodded and lifted the covers, ready to slide back into bed next to her. But he paused, half in and half out.

"Do you... want me to sleep on the couch tonight?" he asked, frowning just a little as his eyes flicked over to the door, "If you need space?"

He pulled back just a little, but Nikoletta's hand snapped out and caught his wrist before he could go far. Abner froze in place. She swallowed hard.

"No. Please." she admitted, the words sticking in her throat, "I don't want to be alone."

[practically-an-x-man]

Lost in Thought (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: In the middle of the night, Abner falls into a painful thought spiral. He's never had someone to help him out of it before, but things aren't the way they used to be

Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, discussion of self-hatred

Word Count: 3.2k

____

Nikoletta turned over in the bed, wincing at the light flooding in behind her eyelids. Sunlight? No- it was the middle of the night, the sky was dark, and the light from the street wasn’t enough to have woken her. She forced her eyes open and squinted, looking at the room around her illuminated in a myriad of colors.

Her sleep-dredged mind still hadn’t quite caught up with her. She’d been sleeping surprisingly well, for once not chilled or plagued with nightmares. It was… nice. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so deeply. It must have been years. She had a cat tucked against her arm, the other between her feet, Abner asleep right beside her-

Ah. Right. 

“Mm.” she mumbled, fumbling towards the light until her fingers found his shoulder, “Abner. Honey. Dots.”

He stirred immediately at the sound of her voice - even on the best of nights, he wasn’t a particularly heavy sleeper, and this clearly wasn’t the best of nights - and picked himself up from the bed with a low groan. His movements were rough and graceless, half from fatigue and half from the virus eating its way through his body. Abner ran a hand down his face, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes but only grimacing when his fingers found multicolored, swollen skin instead. Seeing him like this, with that look of well-practiced pain held deep in his eyes, cut Nikoletta’s heart every time. Months of this, and it never seemed to get easier. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, glancing down at her with something almost guilty in his eyes. Somehow that was worse than the outright pain. He took a shuffling step towards the door, leaning on the bedpost when his balance faltered. “I’ll be right back.”

He shuffled his way out of the room before Nikoletta could convince her tired brain to come up with any sort of response. She heard the front door swing open with a low creak, and Baron leapt up from the bed to follow the noise. Abner’s low voice carried through the apartment as he shooed the cat away from the door, and then the lock latched behind him.

For as tired as she’d been in the moments before, it was impossible to sleep while she waited for Abner to return. For one thing, it was hard to hold any warmth with him gone, especially with the cats still off investigating the door. For another, she couldn’t get the sound of his voice out of her head - the apology, the way he sounded both so pained and so flooded with that strange guilt.

She was used to the routine by now, him getting up in the middle of the night to release the dots as the virus collected and seethed in his body, but this was different. Normally it was a chore for him, but tonight he seemed more burdened than usual. Was it the fact that the light had woken her? The fact that she’d reminded him instead of waiting for him to get so uncomfortable that he woke himself up? Or was it something else entirely - nightmares or otherwise haunted thoughts as she knew he struggled with?

Nikoletta wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, her heart ached for him. 

She heard the door open and shut again just a few minutes later. Something in her jolted at that, a static shock between the ribs, but Nikoletta forced her breathing to remain steady. That was a little remnant from her years in Belle Reve, she was sure. She couldn’t sit with her back to the door, and it always made her flinch to hear an entrance she couldn’t see.

But that tired, shuffling gait was Abner’s, as was the mumbled greeting he gave to the cats when he entered. The tension bled out of Nikoletta’s body in a rush. Even though she knew why he’d left, how long he’d be gone, even if logic told her there was nobody else who could have entered but him… that little ribbon of anxiety was woven in with her nerves. Short of clawing herself completely numb, it would linger with her forever. 

Nikoletta shifted on the bed, turning herself over and tucking the duvet around herself as she waited for Abner to join her. Except… he didn’t. She heard him pour himself a glass of water, a routine that was usually followed by him returning to the bedroom and pulling her into his arms, but tonight it was followed by several long minutes of near-silence. Nikoletta frowned to herself, again pushing herself up and rubbing at her eyes. 

She wasted only another moment, lamenting the soon-to-be loss of the warmth she’d managed to scrape together here between the sheets, then sighed and slid out of bed. The cheap vinyl carpet was cool and rough under her bare feet.

“Abner? You coming back to bed, hon?” Nikoletta asked, propping herself against the doorway to look him over. He was seated on the end of the couch, hunched over, though he glanced up at the sound of her voice. His eyes were tired, heavily-lidded- at least, more than usual.

“I don’t know.” he sighed, wringing his hands in his lap, “Maybe.”

Nikoletta frowned as she picked her way over to the couch. Baron and Barbie wove between her feet and nearly tripped her. Abner’s dark eyes tracked her with every step, even as she found a spot beside him on the sofa.

“What’s wrong?”

He just shrugged at first, and didn’t say a word. Nikoletta waited in silence, fingers twitching in indecision. She wanted to reach out to him, to take his hand or run her fingers through his hair or tug on his shoulder to kiss his cheek, but she wasn’t sure he’d want that now. After all, he’d pulled away, and he sat hunched in on himself like he wanted to take up the smallest space he could.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” he finally said, the words so mumbled they were almost incoherent. Abner curled his fingers against his legs, squeezing until it looked like it hurt. “I don’t mean to be so… so weird and gross and ugly all the time. I’m sorry.”

“Whoa, hey-” Nikoletta started, finally finding the drive to reach for him and draw his hands away from his thighs before he bruised himself. Abner hardly seemed to notice her, his fingers squeezing hers so hard it made her bones creak. She fought down her wince.

She was too tired for this - too tired to think of what to say, what she could do to comfort him, if there was anything she could do to comfort him - and that sent a flash of guilt sparking through her. She wished she could be better for him. She wished she could be better about these quiet moments, when her instinct was to grow cold and pull away herself. She wouldn’t give in to that instinct, but… it would be so much easier not to have that instinct at all. 

“I’m just an- an anchor,” Abner kept going, his voice twisted into a low, self-hating mutter, “I’m this weight dragging you down, I’m a drag on your life- you’d be so much happier without me-”

“When did I say that?” Her voice came out too sharp, in her desperation to get a word in before he pressed on, and Abner’s eyes flashed up to hers like he’d been kicked. Nikoletta almost flinched, pierced by another sharp quarrel of guilt, and she swallowed the urge to look away. “Abner, sweetheart- when did I say I’d be happier without you?”

He fought for words for a while, struggling with the logic of it. 

“Well- you didn’t, but I-”

“I didn’t.” she repeated, “I didn’t, Abner, because that’s not true. You asked me, back at the hospital, if I wanted to stay with you. And I said yes.”

“That was months ago.”

“And you asked me again before we adopted Baron and Barbie, because pets are a big commitment. You said they’d tether us together, and they’d get sad if we split, so you had to double-check that I wanted to stay with you. I thought it was… sweet.” Nikoletta added, twisting around on the couch to look at him directly. She was finding her words now, getting a rhythm, and maybe she wouldn’t have been able to manage it if it weren’t so late at night. “And you ask me the same thing every time you get sick, or have a nightmare, or sometimes for no reason at all, and I always say the same thing, don’t I?”

He nodded - a sort of loose, low motion that said he didn’t want to let himself believe her, but at the same time he couldn’t find any ground to refute it. His eyes flicked up and down her face, unable to find any steady place to land. It felt like the early days. These little spirals of his always did. 

That wasn’t to say she didn’t spiral just as much. Some days went by where she couldn’t bring herself to touch him, so convinced she’d leave a mark like she used to. Sometimes she was too sharp with him, too distant, throwing up those old walls even though she knew he deserved so much better than that. It was almost fair, in a way. And strangely, she almost appreciated when it was his turn - it broke her heart to see him hurt like this, but it reminded her she wasn’t the only one.

“Maybe… maybe you just didn’t want to be alone.” Abner finally said, so softly he was almost whispering, “Maybe I was just… easier?”

“You’re right. I don’t want to be alone.” she admitted, dropping her gaze down to their linked hands, “I… I don’t ever want to be alone again. Not like I was. And maybe- maybe that is part of it. But honestly? I don’t think that really matters much. I’d rather be not-alone with you than not-alone with someone else. It’s not just having another body in the house, y’know, just to take up space, it’s… I like you, Abner. I love you. It’s more than just wanting someone else here with me. I want you here. You’re not replaceable.”

She still wasn’t good with the softer words. She still wasn’t used to it. But… these came out about as well as she could have hoped. Abner’s expression softened, just for a moment, and Nikoletta thought she felt him lean in a little closer. She released her grip on his hands, though only to reach up and brush her fingers through his hair. 

“Will you come back to bed?”

“I don’t know.” he mumbled. She couldn’t tell whether he was reacting to the question or what came before it. Abner ducked his head in a way that made her fingers fall away from him. It made something ache within her. For as long as she’d spent shunning all touch, it hurt to be on the other end of it. “I don’t think I deserve to be in bed right now.”

You do, she wanted to say, but she knew that wouldn’t help. It was too… easy. Too open. By now she knew how his mind worked. She needed to give him something harder to brush aside- something that placed it outside himself. 

“Well… maybe I deserve to have you with me. Maybe I deserve to be warm, hm? Maybe I deserve to feel safe? You know it’s hard for me to sleep without you next to me.” she tried, “Maybe… it’s not about what you deserve tonight, it’s about what I deserve. Come back to bed. You’ll feel better once you sleep.”

“I don’t want to feel better. It’s not worth feeling better.”

Nikoletta sighed. This was a bad one. And she was running out of things to say. The darker side of her, that cold steel core, wanted just to walk away. She’d tried, given it her fair share of effort, but maybe he just wanted to wallow for a bit. She was already exhausted, and this could go on for hours. He wouldn’t blame her for being selfish, she thought. Not for this. 

But she’d blame herself.

“Where are all these thoughts coming from?” she asked, setting her palm on his knee and tilting her head to try and meet his eyes. Abner ducked her gaze with a faint shrug. 

“My head, I guess.” he mumbled. Nikoletta knew what he really meant. Those thoughts hadn’t just originated in his mind like he said. She knew who had planted them there, years ago, alongside the virus that racked his body.

“Hm.”

She didn’t say anything more than that, didn’t offer any encouragement or comfort, and she got up from the couch. Abner looked confused, even a little hurt, as Nikoletta slipped back into the bedroom. But she was back only a moment later, with a blanket tucked around her shoulders. 

“Well…” she said, sliding back onto the couch beside him and tucking herself against his side, “If you’re not coming back to bed, I might as well keep you company out here.”

She swept the blanket off her shoulders and laid it across both of their laps. Abner’s fingers fiddled at the edge of it, like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to push it away or not. He ended up leaving it where it was, but there was confusion still drawn into his posture. Nikoletta did her best to ignore it, instead folding her knees under herself and leaning her head into Abner’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to.” she insisted, “I said I want to stay with you, and that means… I want to stay with you.”

Finally, she could feel some of his tension bleed away, and Abner turned his head to press a firm, chaste kiss to her temple. It still wasn’t perfect, she could still feel the reservations in his posture, the way his hands stayed clasped in his lap instead of drawing her closer, but it was a start.

“How do you see me?” she mumbled, turning her head to look up at him, “Do you see-”

“No.” Abner cut her off, something firm coming into his tone as he said the word. His voice softened a moment later, returning to that gentle hesitance she knew so well from him, “No, I… I see you. I see this… this beautiful woman with black eyes and coily hair, and I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m supposed to be seeing.”

“Mm-hmm.” Nikoletta agreed, nodding faintly against his shoulder. Abner let out a faint breath, something almost relieved, like he’d been halfway worried it was all another hallucination.

“When I say I see her, I don’t…” he sighed after a moment or two of silence, “I don’t mean I really see her all the time. Sometimes I do, when I’m- when I’m stressed, or when there’s a lot of people looking at me, but I… I still know what people look like. But I hear her. In my head. All the time. ‘Abner, you fuck-up, why can’t you do anything right? Get rid of the dots, I don’t want to look at that, nobody’s going to love you if they have to see you like that. Sit down and be quiet, I should never have had a son this useless. Why couldn’t it be you that died instead of your brother?’”

He spoke the words tiredly, distanced by time, but Nikoletta’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t find her voice, swallowed and suffocated under so much old grief, but she found herself reaching for his hand and clasping it tightly between both of her own. 

She could see now why he’d ended up pulling away. She’d urged him up out of nothing more than concern, knowing the dots made him feel sick and miserable and hating the sight of pain on his face. If there had been anything selfish in it, it was only the fact that the light had woken her. She’d meant it only as a gentle reminder, nothing worse than that. 

And he’d heard his mother, shoving him away because she couldn’t stand to look at him.

“Abner…” she murmured, the sound of his name enough to make him glance back down at her, “You’re- you’re not gross. You’re not ugly. You’re not useless, and you are not a fuck-up. I don’t know why she thought she had to tell you those things, but she was wrong.”

She lifted his hand and kissed it, the same gesture she remembered him doing for her after she’d first woken up in the hospital. Nikoletta bit her cheek, urging herself to voice the rest of what was in her head. 

“You’re one of the kindest men I’ve ever met,” she managed, and then it was a little easier to continue, “And I mean that. You’re sweet, and you’re smart, and you’re handsome, and I… I’m really glad you’re here with me. You don’t drag me down, you… you make me better. You knew me in Belle Reve. And I’d probably still be there if it weren’t for you.”

There were layers of truth to that. Emotionally and physically. When Waller had assigned her to Corto Maltese, she’d been a hair’s breadth away from slipping into the shadows and disappearing. She’d known the mission was bound to be a death sentence, and she’d known there was nothing Waller could do to keep her there if she chose to escape. She’d never been given a bomb. She’d ducked into the shadows every time they tried, and eventually they just gave up.

But she’d stayed for him. She caught the sidelong glances, the wariness and distrust cast in his direction, even the sheer animosity from the rest of Belle Reve, and she’d worried the mission would just prove an excuse for a very convenient slip in the middle of the night. Waller wouldn’t care. It could all be brushed aside, a mistake, an accident, a hapless casualty. She’d thought even then that he deserved better.

At that point, it had still been a distant sort of want - none of the fervent drive or desperation it would develop into, of course. She’d spoken with him rarely, and she didn’t deny that he was an odd sort of man, but he was still the only person within those walls who’d ever made an effort to reach out to her. If nothing else, she wanted him to make it out of Corto Maltese.

And it led her here: not only alive but warm, happy, safe in a way she’d once barely been able to dream about. It wasn’t a glamorous life, of course, it wasn’t without its share of struggles, but… she’d take these struggles. A hundred times over.

Nikoletta tilted her head to kiss his jaw - about the only place she could reach without stretching - and Abner let out a long, slow breath. Finally his arm snuck around her waist, long fingers splayed across the crest of her hip. Nikoletta shut her eyes, letting her weight rest against his side. She’d spend the night here on the couch, if that’s what it turned to.

“Alright,” Abner mumbled, just as she’d begun to drift off. Nikoletta shifted.

“Hm?”

“We can go back to bed,” he decided, “I’m, um, I’m ready. Thanks, Nik.”

[practically-an-x-man]

No Longer Alone (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: Nikoletta wakes up after the battle with Starro... things have changed, but perhaps for the better

Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, Nikoletta being incredibly touch-starved as usual

Word Count: 4.7k

____

She hadn’t always hated her hands. 

Once, her hands had represented her livelihood - her fingers shuffling cards and skating delicately across palms, rings shiny and bright against her dark skin. She’d cast illusions with those hands, in every way except physical. Her hands kept her alive and safe in any way they could, any way she could, and there was something graceful about that. 

And then came the lab. Then came the discovery that her touch was no longer gentle, no longer safe, the realization that she had changed. Then came the fear. Then came the hatred. 

She’d found power in it, of course. She’d always felt that the only way to improve a bad situation was to make something of it. Not everything could be fixed, particularly in the world she lived in, but there was always a way to adapt. If not to solve the puzzle entirely, at least to scrape herself into a better-fitting piece. So she’d shifted her perspective and found a new means of power, even when that meant building walls around herself. Even when it meant hating every touch she left.

For years, it had been this way. 

And then, somewhere along the line, things had begun to shift. 

She remembered him holding out a hand, perhaps not in total confidence but in courage nonetheless, for her to shake in greeting. He was the first in years to even offer that much. 

She remembered his hand clutching hers on the plane, in a grip so tight it made her bones creak. Takeoff had startled him. It was a reflex. But he hadn’t let go… and she hadn’t pulled away.

She remembered reaching for him herself, tugging him through the jungle when his steps began to drag. The others didn’t dare to get close, at the sight of his skin distorted and glowing with the unnatural virus that laid underneath. She knew the feeling all too well. She refused to do to him what everybody else had done to her. 

She held onto him like there was nothing else solid in the world. She clung to him like there was no other warmth. She couldn’t let go. 

Always gloved, always shielded, never once skin-to-skin. But she couldn’t let go. 

Her hand wrapped in his, under the table in the bar. 

His hand wrapped in hers, gripped tight as they rode to Jotunheim.

Her hands on his back, shoving him into the shadows with everything she had.

She hoped it had been enough.

She prayed to God it had been enough. 

____

Nikoletta awoke to the sound of an alarm clock, ceaseless and blaring and rhythmic. She awoke to trembling limbs, a deep chill despite the weight of a bedsheet against her legs. She awoke to a single spark of warmth, a hand wrapped around her own.

Her fingers tensed around the touch, in nothing more than reflex - perhaps curiosity, perhaps the faintest note of trepidation - and the chiming in her ears spiked into a faster tempo. Not an alarm clock, she realized. A heart monitor. She’d landed herself in a medical bed.

She forced her eyes open, though even that simple task threatened to drag her under once again. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so fatigued - tired and hollow and cold, like all the threads that held her together had begun to fray. The cold wasn’t new, of course. She was always cold. But the rest was strange and unpleasant, and she wasn’t sure what had brought her here. 

The first thing her eyes fell on was the hand holding hers, long pale fingers stark against her much darker skin. Perhaps that should have panicked her, the sight of her skin bare and unshielded against another’s. Another time, it would have. Another time, she’d have pulled away before she’d even processed the sight. But her limbs were heavy, and this all seemed no more real than a dream, that hand in hers just the touch of a ghost, and she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. 

Her eyes traveled upwards, following the hand up to a slender arm, a pair of hunched shoulders, a tall but thin frame compacted into a cheap plastic chair at her bedside. Something loosened within her chest at the sight, some tight knot of emotion that she hadn’t even realized still lingered inside her. 

Abner. 

He didn’t look quite so ghostly. He looked more than a little haggard, hollows as dark as bruises under his eyes, but that only made the sight of him more real. If he’d looked well-rested, she thought, it would have seemed too much like a dream. Or worse. 

He was asleep in the chair, his posture stooped and his chin fallen down to his chest. Gone was his mission suit, and instead he wore a simple gray t-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting black trousers. It made her realize she’d never seen his arms bare, only ever covered in sleeves. It made her wonder briefly if this was the way the others had seen her in the bar, the one time she’d dared to leave a bit more skin exposed.

That thought drew Nikoletta’s eyes back down to her left hand, still clasped in his. She shifted her grip, a knot rising in her throat as she imagined the shadows, the permanent stains- 

But his skin was unmarked.

In dark fascination, still not fully believing it, she ran the pad of her thumb over his skin. Not a mark. Her fingers tingled with the richness of even that simple touch, for once not separated by cloth or plastic. She was… safe. For the first time in years, she was safe.

Nikoletta’s grip tightened on his hand, soaking in every little intricacy of the touch. His hand was cool, though still warmer than her own, his knuckles dusted with fine dark hair. There were scars at his wrists, some raised and disc-shaped while the others were long and thin. She had a guess as to their origins, and why she’d only ever seen him in sleeves. His palm was rough, scraped and raw, against her own. She wondered if that had come from the battle, perhaps a skid against the rubble. 

It was vivid but it was impossible. He was here but he couldn’t be. She held him tight yet spread no shadows. 

Tears slipped down Nikoletta’s cheeks. She’d never imagined making it to heaven. Not with the life she’d lived. And… maybe this wasn’t quite heaven, but it was about the closest she could have imagined. It was at least a gentle purgatory.

Again she shifted her hold on him, running her fingertips along the ridges of his knuckles. If this was to be her afterlife, her not-quite heaven, she’d claim whatever she had waiting for her. 

This time, Abner stirred at the touch. His fingers tensed around her hand.

“Nikoletta- hey, you’re awake.” His voice was soft as always, rough with sleep but flooded with pure relief. His eyes flicked back and forth across her face, caught in an expression somewhere between gratitude and disbelief. Nikoletta swallowed hard, still unable to stop her tears from falling. 

“Are we dead?”

“What? No, we’re- no. We’re not dead. We’re in the hospital.” he stammered, that all-too-familiar sadness in his eyes blooming a little brighter for a moment, “Did you think you would wake up in the hospital if you were dead?”

Logic told her she would. It was where a lot of people died, and where a lot of unfortunate news was delivered, and she supposed it would make for the least jarring transition from one world to another. On the other hand, familiarity told her she would wake up in Belle Reve, that her mind would return to what had been constant for so many years.

She settled for a shrug. She didn’t know. She wasn’t about to speculate on an afterlife. More educated people than her had tried and failed.

“But you- and Starro… and I-” Her voice cut out on her, but she lifted their clasped hands - that  beautiful paradox of unencumbered touch - for emphasis. “No shadows. How…?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, giving her the faintest tilt of his head. Nikoletta pursed her lips. The memories came in flashes - the huge pink arm of the beast, her feet thundering on concrete, a wash of shadows draping her as she planted her hands against his back. Everything that came after… darkness. Nothing but darkness. 

“I pushed you.” she finally answered, urging her mind to coax out a few more details. She came up blank, shrouded only in shadows. “That’s… that’s all.” 

“Oh. Okay. Well…” Abner agreed, shifting a little in his seat, “You pushed me. You pushed me… into the shadows, I don’t- I don’t know how. I don’t remember that part either. DuBois said they found us in one of the buildings. I guess it was the darkest place around. And I, um, I woke up on the plane. We’re back in Louisiana now. Out of Belle Reve, though. That’s done. You were asleep for four days.”

Nikoletta nodded, slowly. Her mind was swirling with questions, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice a single one. Abner’s dark eyes flicked from her to the machines surrounding her. She was reminded again of how tired he looked. Four days… she’d be willing to bet he hadn’t slept more than an hour or two since Corto Maltese.

“The doctors were scared for you.” he continued after a moment, his voice falling almost to a whisper, “Your heartbeat was really low. And you were cold. Like… hypothermic. I was just- I was, um, afraid you weren’t going to wake up. I’m really glad you did.”

The words didn’t even begin to match the emotion she saw written across his face. Neither did it match what she felt herself. She’d been afraid to lose him. There was a part of her that still was, even with him here beside her now. She was starting to think she’d been afraid for a long time, and was only now aware of it. 

“And the shadows?”

“I don’t know. They’re gone.” Abner answered, glancing back down at their joined hands. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “I noticed when the doctors started working on you. I tried to tell them- I did tell them. About the shadows. But you weren’t leaving any. And I thought… I thought maybe if you could feel me holding your hand, you’d wake up sooner? But I can let go if it’s-”

He began to release his grip on Nikoletta’s hand, but she jolted forward before he could get out of reach. Abner froze in place, meeting her eyes. 

“Don’t let go,” Nikoletta said, tightening her grip on his fingers, “Please don’t let go.”

“Okay,” he agreed, recovering his grip. She thought she could see a touch of relief, deep in his eyes. Abner slid his chair a little closer to her bed and clasped her hand between both of his own. He was quiet for a while, just staring at his hands with an interesting expression on his face. Nikoletta couldn’t quite make it out. Perhaps if she weren’t so tired, and weren’t still reeling at the feeling of his hands enveloping her own, she might have been able to parse it out. 

“Are you okay?” she found herself asking, drawing his eyes back up to her face. Abner searched for words for a few long moments, running his thumbs back and forth across her knuckles. The touch was intoxicating. She nearly asked him to stop - not because she really wanted to, but because she couldn’t pull her thoughts together. The entire world seemed to have shrunken down to a pinprick, nothing but his careful fingers and his sad dark eyes. 

“Do you want to stay with me?” he finally asked, though he couldn’t seem to meet her gaze, “DuBois said he found a place where we could stay, but I guess… I guess I just assumed you’d want to stay with me when everything was done. Maybe that was a stupid assumption to make. I’m sorry. I don’t think sometimes. We haven’t even really known each other that long, I just figured-”

“Abner.” Nikoletta cut him off before his words could run away from him, “I do. I want to stay with you.”

The words earned her a smile - a real one, she thought, a rare glimpse at pure joy like she’d seen only a sparse few times back in Corto Maltese. It made her heart kick out a few extra beats, the briefest wash of warmth spilling through her body. She wanted more than just to share a space with him. She wanted to be next to him, to be held by him, to explore him with the touch she’d only just regained. She hardly wanted to leave his side.

Perhaps that made her broken. Perhaps that meant they were both broken. Perhaps she only clung to this connection because it was the only one she’d ever been offered. If she’d run into him out on the street, met him at a café or a bookshop somewhere, if it hadn’t been a matter of danger and adrenaline and a few stumbling flirtations, would she still seek him out?

Maybe not. 

But the fact of the matter was that she hadn’t met him that way. She hadn’t been given that quiet life. She’d been given an orange jumpsuit and powers she didn’t understand. And so had he. She didn’t even know how he’d handle a life outside prison- or, for that matter, how she would handle it herself. Being thrown straight from STAR Labs into Belle Reve, she wasn’t sure he’d ever had a normal life. It could turn out to be a disaster.

And she wanted him anyway. If that meant they were broken, at least they’d be broken together.

“I’m glad. Really glad,” Abner said, still baring her that same gentle smile, “I want to stay with you too.”

He hesitated for just a moment, then lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. Nikoletta bit her cheek to hold back her smile. It was so… gentle, so old-fashioned, a gesture she’d never seen an actual living person do in her lifetime. She wondered if he’d picked it up from a movie somewhere, or perhaps read it in a book. Either way, she thought it was sweet. 

He drew back and gave her hand a soft squeeze, but a faint crease had drawn in between his dark eyebrows. 

“And there’s… there’s one more thing.”

Abner stood up, hesitating just a moment before he let go of her hand. Nikoletta’s fingers twitched almost the instant he did, already itching for the touch once it was gone. It had been close to fifteen years since she’d had any unobstructed physical contact, and she wanted to cling to it like a drowning woman clung to a buoy on storm-riddled seas. Abner frowned a little, something like guilt pooling in his eyes as he noticed the way she reached for him.

But despite the conflicted look on his face, he didn’t recover his grip on her hand. Instead he just turned around, hiding those pained dark eyes from her. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached for the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head. 

His back was covered in shadows. Nikoletta could see the imprints of her palms on his skin, a stark handprint over each of his shoulderblades. Underneath the prints were dark rays, spanning outwards in something like the impression of wings - long black feathers stretching from his shoulders almost down to his hips, curving faintly around his ribs. They weren’t quite symmetrical, one print higher and more leftward than the other, which gave him almost a hunchbacked look when she focused on it for too long. If it weren’t for that, and what her shadows represented - what they’d represented for over a decade now - it would almost be beautiful. 

Nikoletta found herself reaching out, fingers hovering just over the inky tattoos scrawled across his skin. She did not touch, much as she wanted to. Irremovable. Irreparable. She’d been so careful with him, so hesitant of every touch, never daring to risk a single shadow… and it didn’t even matter in the end.

“Oh, Abner, I’m so sorry…”

He twisted over his shoulder, shooting her a vaguely confused look. 

“Sorry? Why-” he cut himself off, seeing the answer written across her face. Abner wriggled back into his t-shirt and turned to face her fully, sadness and affection mingling in those pitch-black eyes. “Nik… you saved my life. I don’t care about the marks. I just figured you’d rather see it now instead of getting surprised by it later.”

“But you were wearing your suit.” Nikoletta realized, hardly hearing him, “It shouldn’t have- how?”

“Oh, yeah-” Abner agreed, and turned around to snag his mission suit - which she now realized had been draped over the seat beside him. He held it up to her with a wan half-smile. “Lot of shadows, I guess. Went straight through.”

She might as well have thrown a bucket of ink on his mission suit. The back of it was doused in shadows, indiscriminately covering both the white fabric and vibrant decals from the neckline down to the waist. The darkness was so complete, so widespread, that it almost looked like a hole in the world. 

This confused her. And scared her. She’d never left shadows through another surface before. Up until this point, her gloves and sleeves had always been enough to shield her. Was a single layer no longer enough? Was she destined to be even more careful than before, even more guarded, to abandon even dampened touches for fear of spreading her shadows further?

But she wasn’t spreading shadows now. And she’d never pushed another person into their realm before. She didn’t even know she could. What she’d done in Corto Maltese had been a desperate plea to save Abner’s life, a Hail Mary pass in its truest form, and she’d never expected to succeed. Perhaps she’d finally drained away that poison they’d filled her with. Perhaps that was why she now felt so weak, stripped of the darkness that held her together.

Abner set the suit down, draped over the same chair he’d picked it up from, and met her eyes. It seemed like he was looking straight into her soul. 

After a few long heartbeats, he sighed and sat back down in his chair. He offered her his hand, palm up in another charmingly old-fashioned gesture, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach for it. Not after that reminder of her curse. 

Abner frowned.

“They’re just marks, Nikki. Like tattoos, almost. I’ve had worse. It didn’t even hurt.”

“You expected it to hurt?”

“I mean… yeah. The way you talked about them, I thought-” he started, but cut himself off with a shrug, “I don’t know. I think it was worse in my head. It just feels a little cold. Like I’ve got a fan blowing on me.”

“Cold?” She hadn’t realized the chill of the shadows would transfer with them. To be fair, nobody ever lasted long enough to share that little detail with her. Abner shrugged. 

“It’s not bad,” he said, glancing over his shoulder though he couldn’t have seen the marks through his shirt, “I get hot anyway. When the dots flare up. So it’s kind of nice.”

Nikoletta tilted her head at him, vaguely unsure of how to feel. He was so… indifferent about it all. She couldn’t figure it out. By her count, it had been close to five years since he’d been sent to Belle Reve - five years of seeing everything those shadows represented, five years of watching the piranhas swarm until there was nothing left but gleaming bone, and somehow he didn’t seem to care. Was this the flippant shrug of a man who had worse problems to balance and ended up shoving this to the bottom of the stack? Or was it simply that they were out of Belle Reve, and he knew she couldn’t hurt him if she tried?

Because… that was true. Somewhere along the way, between the sweaty and bug-infested nights in the jungle and the anxiety-riddled bus ride to Jotunheim, he’d found a place in that empty space behind her ribs. Abner was tightly-wound, insecure, easy to hurt… and it would break her heart if she did. He made her want to be gentle.

How odd. 

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and Nikoletta pulled herself from her thoughts just in time to see Abner stretching past the arm of his chair, closing those last few inches that separated her hand from his. He didn’t reach for anything more than that, didn’t try for any grand moves or gestures, but it was a surprising act of bravery from him all the same. And it looked like the arm of the chair was pressing into his ribs. Nikoletta readjusted her grip to give him a little more leeway, somehow charmed by the awkward stretch he’d put himself through just to be near her.

“You know it’s been fifteen years since anyone’s held my hand?” she muttered, fixated on the way his fingers interlaced with her own. 

“Without gloves?”

“At all.” she corrected, “Back on the plane, when you grabbed my hand… that was the first time anyone’s reached out to me since 2006. Gloves or no gloves.”

Abner ducked his head with a grimace, giving her a vague nod.

“I know how that feels.” he said, then glanced up and shot her the briefest hint of a smile, “But I’ll hold your hand. I’m not afraid.”

“You’d be the first.”

He frowned at that, just another low flicker across his face. It was growing easier to read him, she thought. Back when she’d first seen him, she’d assumed he always wore the same guarded, tired-eyed expression, but now she could see the intricacies beyond it. The twitches at the corners of his lips. The subtle shifting of his eyes, the way he’d alternate between holding her gaze and refusing to look at her entirely. The lilts and dips and drops in his voice, the shifts in his posture, all the other details that went beneath what she saw on his face. 

Learning to read him was like learning a foreign language without a dictionary. But she was learning. Little by little. 

But even though she was getting better at reading him, she couldn’t have predicted his next move. 

Abner Krill slid out of his seat and folded her into an embrace.

At first she tensed, surprised by the touch. For as long as it had been since somebody had reached for her hand, it had been even longer since she’d been held like this. She almost didn’t know what to do with herself.

Nikoletta crumbled into his arms. 

Tears coursed down her cheeks - she hadn’t meant to cry, but the sensation of being held for the first time in decades simply overwhelmed her. Abner mumbled something, perhaps some form of comfort or appeasement, but she hardly heard it. The touch obscured every other sense. He was warm, he was gentle, his body pressed against her own. She could feel every one of his breaths, every slow rise and fall of his chest. It was a remarkable feeling. For once, she wasn’t chilled by her shadows.

A fractured sound tore from her throat, and she buried her face against Abner’s chest. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, the one barrier between Nikoletta and the shadows she’d left on his skin. Abner shifted but didn’t let go. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, “Do- do you want me to-”

“No. Please.” Nikoletta managed, the words broken by tears, “It just… this feels really nice, and I- I’m really glad you’re okay. I thought that it- that it wasn’t going to be enough, that I’d-”

“I’m here, Nikki.”

He didn’t say anything more than that. He didn’t need to.

If anyone had looked into the room at that moment, they would have seen the Queen of Belle Reve broken and sobbing in the arms of the most reclusive former prisoner within those walls. Anyone who’d known her before, even just a week earlier, would have been shocked at the sight. The Queen of Belle Reve never looked so shattered. The Queen of Belle Reve kept herself at a distance. The Queen of Belle Reve simply didn’t care, wouldn’t shed a single tear for spent life. 

Nikoletta was beginning to wonder if the Queen of Belle Reve had died with her shadows. She didn’t feel like that woman anymore. She didn’t think that was such a bad thing.

She probably held on too tight. She probably held on for too long. Nikoletta couldn’t bring herself to care. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been held like this. Even before STAR Labs, even before Belle Reve… she’d been a loner by trade. She’d never been particularly skilled at getting close to people, and in recent years she’d gotten even worse. The fact that Abner was here at all, the fact that he’d waited at her bedside for four whole days, was nothing short of a miracle in her eyes. 

“I read somewhere…” Abner murmured after a while, though he didn’t loosen his grip on her, “Most people need eight hugs a day for maintenance. And mental stability.”

“Hm. I’m way behind.” Nikoletta replied, a little distractedly. The words were the last thing on her mind. She never wanted him to let go of her. 

“Me too.”

“How many are we counting this as?”

“Just one.” he decided, “But there’s a lot of day left.”

That was enough to draw her eyes up, a faint smile pulling at her lips.

“Y’know, you’re pretty smooth when you want to be.”

“Oh, that wasn’t-” Abner started, and she watched his eyes flick back and forth as he retraced what he’d said, “I didn’t mean that to be smooth.”

“Just take it.” Nikoletta mumbled, a little amused, “It’s a good thing.”

“Okay, then… I totally meant that to be smooth. Yeah.”

She stifled a giggle by turning her face against the side of his neck, and felt Abner’s shoulders hitch as he held back a faint laugh of his own. It was nice to hear him laugh like this, joke like this. It was nice to hear him happy. 

He held her until her tears finally ran dry, until the plaguing chill of her shadows seemed like nothing more than a memory. He held her until her already-weakened limbs began to tremble, until her limited strength began to wane, until she wondered if she might just fall asleep there on his shoulder. That didn’t sound so bad. 

She didn’t get the chance. A horde of doctors swept in just as she’d begun to let herself drift, and the tension snapped back into her body like a tightly-wound spring. Judging from the way Abner flinched, he felt the same. They’d both gotten more than their fair share of white coat hypertension in their lives. 

But for just a few minutes there… that was nice. She hoped she’d get the chance to do it again. Fifteen years was an awfully long time to have left herself walled-off from the rest of the world.

Nikoletta Bordeaux would spend two more nights in the hospital, and six more still weak and shaky before she was back on her feet. Abner hardly ever left her side - only twice a day to expel the dots, and once when she’d practically had to shove him out the door because the sight of a heavyset and bespectacled nurse had nearly sent him into a panic attack. As much as that one hurt her heart… she was a little flattered at how determined he was to stay with her. 

It took weeks, even after she left the hospital, before she’d recovered enough of herself to jump into the shadows. When she did, she nearly collapsed upon reentry, and it resulted in three more days of fatigue and dizziness. The weakness was persistent, and beyond unpleasant. She hoped it faded soon enough. 

But she didn’t once regret what she’d done.

[practically-an-x-man]

The Facts Were These (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: She can't touch him without leaving a permanent mark... but that's just another obstacle to be worked around, and he has a solution.

Tags: fluff and angst, first kiss, copious amounts of awkward flirting... and way too many references to Pushing Daisies

Word Count: 4.4k

____

La Gatita Amable. 

One look around the bar told her it wasn’t exactly… well, amable. No outright fights had broken out, but the room was packed to the gills and flooded with chatter so loud Nikoletta could barely hear herself think. The press of bodies all around her made her hackles rise from the moment she stepped through the door.

She’d been half-convinced to wait in the van with Nanaue. It would be safer, both for her and all the others in the bar. She’d found a dress that covered her not-quite to the knees, and she still wore her gloves despite the strange looks that earned her, but that was the best she could put together. And it was still an awful lot of skin to have exposed. 

Once, she’d have dressed like this at every opportunity. High skirts, low necklines, hardly a sleeve in sight if she could help it… walking in stilettos with her head held high, relishing in the way she commanded the streets. She felt sexy. She felt powerful.

She couldn’t afford that now. Not when any touch, even the smallest brush of skin, would leave an irreversible mark. 

Even this dress, taken from a helter-skelter assortment of clothes and disguises, the first thing she’d worn in years that wasn’t a prison jumpsuit or her mission suit, was a risk. She was aware of every inch of skin that was left uncovered, and it hardly gave her confidence.

Only two things convinced her to join the others in the bar. The first was the thought of staying cooped up in that bus with the land-shark. She didn’t enjoy small spaces, and a companion who could only speak a half-dozen words was hardly the best of company. 

The second was the dress. Cleo had found it buried at the bottom of the trunk: a crisp goldenrod, sleek fabric (pure polyester, synthetic and safe) layered with delicate lace flowers, that hugged every curve of her body and pulled in tight to a Grecian neckline at her throat. It was exactly the sort of thing Nikoletta would have worn in her prior life, before the shadows. Despite every warning in her mind… it called to her. She couldn’t resist. She wanted a taste of the life she’d left. 

So she found herself in the bar, packed into a booth with the wall of the bar on her right side and Abner pressed in on her left. At least he was wearing sleeves. Her heart still pounded with every shift, every brush, but no shadows were spread.

Maybe that meant her heart was racing for a different reason. 

She wasn’t ready to acknowledge that thought just yet. She refused to get involved with a man she couldn’t even touch. 

Conversation swirled around her. Nikoletta hardly said a word. She’d learned not to fill the air with needless chatter, not to speak unless she could command the room, and there was no way she’d command the room amid so much chaos. So she didn’t speak. She just… waited and watched and listened, taking sips from her cocktail as an excuse to keep the conversation from turning her way. 

Her right hand was curled loosely around her drinking glass, her gloves squeaking against the condensation. Her left hand, under the table, was held in Abner’s. She couldn’t remember who’d initiated that. He was a bit more fearless, at least in this, but… she’d hardly been able to let go of him since the plane. Carefully shielded through layers of cloth, it was another thing she couldn’t resist. Their clasped hands rested on his knee - hers was bare, unsafe, and he at least had that much sense. 

Christopher let out a boisterous laugh from Abner’s left- someone must have said something funny, she wasn’t paying enough attention to the conversation to know what or whom. The sound was loud and harsh, sharp enough to pull Nikoletta from her thoughts just in time for Christopher to knock Abner’s shoulder a bit too hard and send him pressing in far too close. Nikoletta squirmed away, hyperaware of every little break in his clothing - the inches where her gloves and his sleeves didn’t quite align, the open buttons in his shirt, his neck, his face-

But the distance never quite closed. Abner shifted in his seat, returning that safe few inches between them, and gave her hand a brief squeeze through her gloves. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hardly loud enough for her to hear. Nikoletta just nodded, fighting hard to quell the pounding in her ears.

She wasn’t sure which was worse: that she’d been terrified of him pressing too close, or that it almost hurt when he pulled away.

It was because he wasn’t afraid, she told herself. It was because he’d dared to introduce himself those years ago, to shake her hand, to be the first to ask for her name. It was because he kept holding her hand, fearless to her shadows.

It wasn’t emotion, she thought. She was starved for touch, and he was the only one to grant that touch - at least in the small ways he could. It wasn’t anything deeper than that. She couldn’t afford for it to be anything deeper than that.

But… she wished she could lay her head on his shoulder. She wished she could be closer than this. She wished… a lot of things. 

“We should dance. Let’s go dance.” Christopher decided all at once, slamming his hands down on the table with a resounding bang!. Beside her, Abner flinched, and his grip tightened on her hand.

“What about the mission?” DuBois remarked, rather dryly, “The target? The whole reason we’re here?”

“Oh, calm your tits, we’ll be ten feet away,” Christopher huffed, already sliding out of his seat. Abner scooted into the empty space without hesitation, and Nikoletta felt a bit of the tension in her chest ease. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. 

One by one, they finished their drinks and slid out of the booth to dance and refill their drinks. Even DuBois, with a bit of convincing. Even Cleo, with Sebastian on her shoulder.

Even Abner. And he let go of her hand. 

It left Nikoletta alone in the booth. She didn’t dare join them. It wasn’t safe to be a part of that crowd, all skimpy clothes and flailing limbs and careless drunken bodies. Once she’d have loved a good night out like this. She’d always enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by humanity, by vitality, to feel the bass pounding in time with her heart.

But she couldn’t have that life anymore. So she contented herself with watching the others. Despite her best efforts, her eyes kept getting drawn back to Abner. 

He was a terrible dancer. But he looked like he was having a lot of fun. It was the most unencumbered she’d ever seen him - though the comparison was prison, and that would weigh on anybody. But… he was smiling. She’d never seen him smile like that before. She wondered if she ever would again. 

Nikoletta watched him for longer than she should have. She wasn't sure why.

After a while, and to her surprise, she found him walking back up to her. Abner’s face was flushed, and he tugged at his sleeves like he was debating whether he wanted to push them up to his elbows or not. He dropped his hands back to his sides as he approached her.

“Hey,” he said, stopping in front of the booth. He still had that smile on his face - faint, but more than she'd ever seen in Belle Reve. 

Suddenly, Nikoletta was grateful she hadn't chosen to wait in the bus.

“Hey,” she replied, tilting her head at him. She was surprised to find a smile on her own lips. It probably looked as foreign to him as his smile looked to her. “You, ah- it looked like you were having a good time.”

Abner nodded but didn’t speak. His eyes shifted back and forth, refusing to settle on her. Finally, seeming to summon his courage, he held out a hand. 

“Care to dance?”

And lord, how she wished she could.

“I shouldn’t.” she muttered. The look on his face broke her heart. Nikoletta grimaced, reaching to take his outstretched hand and give it a quick squeeze. “No, I- I want to, but… you know I shouldn’t. Look at what these people are wearing. Look at what I’m wearing.”

“I’ve- um, I’ve noticed.” he muttered, the flush in his cheeks becoming a touch more pronounced. Nikoletta bit back her smile. Abner waffled for another moment or two, shifting on his feet, then slid into the booth beside her. He left a healthy amount of space between the two of them. She wished it were lesser. She wished it were more. She… didn’t know.

“Where’d you learn how to dance?” Nikoletta asked, trying to spur the conversation forward before it could fall into a lull. She was more than a little out of practice. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat down and chatted like this - no ulterior motives, no power plays, just… talking. Like a couple of human beings. 

Abner chuckled under his breath. 

“Nowhere.” he admitted, glancing over at her with the same shadow of a smile, “You don’t have to pretend I’m a good dancer. I’m awful and I know it. It’s just fun to move around a little. Especially after being cooped up on the bus.”

“Amen to that,” Nikoletta muttered.

“Normally I’m, um, I’m not brave enough.” he continued, ducking her eyes, “To just stand up in front of people like that.”

“But the patriot got a little booze in you, huh?” she guessed, fingers tracing the rim of her own glass. Abner let out another low laugh, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I don’t know…” Nikoletta sighed, “I kinda like it. I like seeing you be brave. You should try it more often.”

She wondered why it was so hard to speak gently. Sharp words she’d mastered. Anything softer than that just felt awkward, like she was stumbling over herself and couldn’t quite find her balance. She remembered being better at this. Maybe she’d spent too long in prison, surrounded by so many barbs and spurs on every side. 

But she wanted to remember how this dance went. She wanted to be brave again.

Nikoletta slid across the booth, closing that distance between them. Her thigh pressed into his, the touch blazing against her perpetually-chilled skin. That took enough courage, but she did her best to summon a little more. Nikoletta reached out, all too aware of the hem of her gloves, her bare skin only inches away from his own, and brushed the hair back from his face. She wanted to see his eyes. 

“It’s really nice to see you smile like that,” she murmured, noticing the way his dark eyes flicked uncertainly across her face. Nikoletta offered him a smile as she drew her hand back to her side. “You look handsome when you’re happy.”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied without hesitation, though his voice had gone so quiet she almost couldn’t hear him amid the noise of the bar around them, “All the time.”

It was far from the first time she’d been called beautiful. Even in Belle Reve. She’d been pursued plenty of times, often less-than-genuinely. Most just wanted a share of her power - or if not that, at least the protection and security she could offer amid those prison walls. They chatted her up with their smooth words, their empty promises, yet they shied away every time she took a step closer. The façade was as thin as tissue paper. Like they thought she was stupid, or so lonely that she’d take any bullshit chance she was offered.

She was lonely, yes. But not that lonely. And she was far from stupid. 

So she turned them away every time. 

But this felt different. This didn’t feel like a grab for power or security. She had no doubt that he believed every word he said.

And it… it felt good, coming from him. She hadn’t felt beautiful in years.

Abner’s eyes found her face again, and this time they didn’t slide away. It was the most intense she’d ever seen him. 

“Nik, I…” he started, swallowing hard like he had to summon the words from deep within himself, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

She reached for his hand again, safe between layers of fabric. This was all she had. This was… maybe all she’d ever have. She wanted to be satisfied with that much - it was still more than she’d had in years - but she couldn’t help longing for more.

It was easier just to be cold. 

Nikoletta ducked his eyes. 

“I really wish you could.” 

There was sadness painted across his face for several long heartbeats. Then she watched the sun dawn on him, crisp and bright like nothing else. He had an idea.

Abner squeezed her hand once, tightly, then pulled away. 

“I’ll be right back.”

She watched him cross the room, right up until he turned a corner and fell out of sight. And Nikoletta waited. She hoped he hadn’t run off. He didn’t seem like the type just to flee without warning, but… maybe he’d used up what little reserves of confidence he had left, and he couldn’t hold his nerve anymore.

“My mom, um-” Abner said, almost startling her from her thoughts. He had something clutched in his hands, a long and thin cardboard box - tin foil? Wax paper? As he spoke, he slid halfway back into the booth beside her, moving with more surprising assuredness than Nikoletta had perhaps ever seen from him. His voice didn’t quite match the confidence of his movements, but that was okay. “My mom used to like this show, Pushing Daisies? Anyway, I- I have an idea.”

At that, he flipped open the box and drew out a long stretch of plastic wrap. Nikoletta noticed, to her faint amusement, that his hands were trembling. He took in a slow breath, visibly steadying himself as he held up the barrier. 

Then, in a shocking display of sudden courage, his lips were on hers. 

She wished she could say it was a beautiful kiss. It wasn’t. She was a decade and a half out of practice, and Abner seemed even more so. The plastic wrap proved as much a challenge as it was a saving grace, folding and wrinkling and pulling taut in strange ways as they moved. And in truth, Nikoletta’s brain short-circuited so completely from the sudden contact that she couldn’t remember all of what happened. 

It wasn’t a beautiful kiss. But it was a kiss. 

And she wanted another. 

Nikoletta pulled back after a moment, but Abner kept leaning in like he was chasing a second kiss. For the briefest moment, every cell in her body screamed to reciprocate. Now that she’d experienced it once, she never wanted to break away from him again.

It scared her more than she wanted to admit. She didn’t want to become addicted to touch. She’d been just fine without it. 

She closed her gloved fingers around Abner’s wrists, drawing his hands and the plastic wrap he held between them away from her. He looked confused but didn’t fight. 

“You know, you…” she sighed, “You really shouldn’t do that.”

Despite the words, a faint smile crossed his face. Nikoletta had no idea why. 

She didn’t get the chance to find out. 

“Lovebirds!” Christopher’s voice, louder and perhaps a touch more inebriated than he should have been, was her only warning before he gave Abner a harsh shove into the booth. 

He probably meant it as a joke. She hoped he meant it as a joke. It was so much more cruel to think that he’d done it sincerely, that he wanted a tangle that ended in permanent marks. He called himself Peacemaker - Nikoletta wanted to believe that. She wasn’t sure she really did. 

Abner stumbled, one hand catching himself against the booth while the other landed against Nikoletta’s waist. His face ended up far too close to her own, close enough that his breath tickled her cheek when he exhaled. Her own hands caught the lapels of his shirt, nothing but reflex, and she nearly pulled him into a collision with the momentum of it all.

Like before, he managed to recover before any marks were made. Like before, he disentangled himself and returned a bit of space, a bit of safety. Christopher had already vanished, disappeared back into the crowd before the consequences of his actions could catch up to him. 

“Are you okay?” Abner murmured, dark eyes flicking over her figure in a cursory glance of concern. Nikoletta wondered why he wasn’t checking himself for shadows, when things had gotten so dangerously close. She wondered why he didn’t care.

“I- yeah, I’m alright.” she admitted, though she could hardly hear herself speak over the thundering of her heart, “Are- are you?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” he agreed, firing just one quick glance over his shoulder, “I’m- um, I’m going to try and find Flag and tell him what happened. Wait here.”

He was gone before she could respond, vanished like a startled rabbit into the brush. There went that brief, bizarre confidence of his. This was more the reaction she was expecting. But, just for the moment, she didn’t mind the extra space. That had gotten too close. She had gotten too close.

This wouldn't last. It couldn't. 

Who would dare to seek out romance with the most damaged person in Belle Reve?

She didn't know why he wanted her.

____

Six months later…

The couch was old and the TV was grainy, but they were hers. The man beside her, with his arm tucked protectively around her shoulders, was hers too. She was still getting used to it. 

Nikoletta leaned her head back against Abner’s shoulder, relishing in even that simple touch. She didn’t imagine she would ever get used to it, these simple careless touches. Baron had taken to curling up on her lap, and she ran her fingers through the cat’s dark fur until he purred with the ceaseless rumble of a jet engine. It was a good feeling, she thought, to have her touch bring comfort instead of fear.

“This was the one you were telling me about,” she remarked with a glance at the screen. The scene she saw was amusingly familiar, though she’d never seen the show a day in her life. “Back at the bar. Corto Maltese.”

“Mm-hmm.” Abner agreed, “Pushing Daisies. If he touches her, she dies, so they have to kiss through plastic wrap.”

“Hm. And I thought our situation was bad enough,” NIkoletta said, vaguely amused. She reached up and brushed her fingers softly down his cheek, if only for the fact that she could. The corners of Abner’s lips twitched, almost a smile. For a moment, she thought he was about to kiss her - again, just for the fact that he could, unencumbered. But the music swelled before he could, and he nudged her back towards the TV. 

“Here. Watch.” 

She obliged, turning her attention to the washed-out images flashing across the screen. It struck her, for the briefest moment, as an echo of her own life: a dark-haired man, not too dissimilar from Abner himself, sharing a kiss with a shorter woman through a layer of plastic wrap. She could see why he was so connected to this show. 

“You really shouldn't do that…”

“That was why you smiled,” Nikoletta mumbled, biting back a smile of her own as she thought of the bar, “I said that same thing to you and I didn't even know it. And you smiled.”

“You remembered a detail that small?” Abner asked, breaking his focus from the TV to glance down at her. Nikoletta nodded.

“Of course I remembered. It was the first kiss I've had in fifteen years.”

“It was the first kiss I've had… ever.”

He looked a little sheepish at the admission, but Nikoletta didn’t so much as raise her eyebrows. She’d guessed as much. Their kiss in the bar was hardly as coordinated as the one on the screen. But real life never was. 

“You look like him, too.” she added, brushing the hair out of his face to get a better look. Abner’s brows crinkled. 

“Tall and sad?”

“No, I mean-” she started, though his interpretation hadn’t been entirely wrong, “I mean you’ve got these big dark eyes, and the same hair, and… and you’re gentle like he is.”

“Gentle?” he echoed, a deep crease still pulled between his brows. Nikoletta almost wanted to point that out, too - she’d seen the same expression a dozen times in just three episodes of the show. She found it cute. Abner glanced down at his hands, frowning a little, “I blew up a building. Multiple buildings.”

“And he brings people back from their incredibly violent deaths,” Nikoletta pointed out, gesturing at the television, “You know that’s not what I mean. I think you’re sweet. You… you care about the things other people forget about.”

She thought of him finding her in the empty halls of Belle Reve after a nightmare, offering her coffee and company before he even knew her name. She thought of him in the bar, careful with every touch but still reaching for her, worried about her safety before he even thought of his own. She thought of him, scratched and bleeding but determined to rescue a scrawny stray cat from where she’d gotten stuck behind an air conditioning unit - a cat who now was well-fed and healthy, stretched out in a sunbeam across the room. 

He was the only one to ask for her name. He was the only one to remember the bus driver’s, and to grieve for him when he’d been lost. He called Flag once a week to check up on his healing, and went out to lunch with Cleo every Wednesday. He cared. And he hardly seemed to notice it. 

“Waller wanted me to mark you.” Still lost in thought, Nikoletta hardly realized she’d said the words until Abner glanced down at her. 

“Hm?” 

“After the others started going after you.” she explained, dropping her head back against his shoulder as she spoke. Maybe she wanted to remind herself that he was here, alive, to feel the rise and fall of his breathing beside her. Maybe she just couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. “She didn't like all the conflict, and she figured getting rid of you would be easier than trying to work things out with all of them. And she thought you’d be dangerous. Uncontrollable. She told me to mark you.”

Abner was silent for a while, chewing on the words. His thumb traced back and forth over her shoulder. Nikoletta chewed her lip. Maybe she shouldn’t have shared that tidbit. He must have known that there were some in Belle Reve who wanted him dead, but… she doubted he’d known it could have come from her own hand.

Finally he sighed. 

“I guess she kind of got what she wanted, in the end.”

He was referring to the marks on his back, the ones she’d left on him back in Corto Maltese. He was referring to the fact that his being stained by her shadows now meant he was out of Belle Reve - though not in the manner Waller had wanted. 

Nikoletta knew that. But the thought of him marked like the rest, thrown to the wolves of Belle Reve, torn apart by a dozen prisoners in need of their fix of bloodshed…

She shuddered. 

“I'm sorry,” Abner corrected quickly, running his hand in gentle circles over her back, “I just meant-”

“I know what you meant. It's okay.” she muttered, “I'm just… glad I didn't do what she wanted.”

“Me too.” 

She sensed that he wasn’t just talking about his life. Really, back at Belle Reve, she doubted he cared much about that. Most people didn’t, when they were staring at a life sentence in the world’s most dangerous prison. Nikoletta certainly fell into that crowd - she’d have fought if someone came after her, but the thought of her death itself did not frighten her. 

Up until Starro, she didn’t remember fearing death at all. Up until Starro, she couldn’t think of any reason to care.

Nikoletta reached up, cupping the back of Abner’s neck and drawing him into a brief kiss. He’d gotten a lot better in the past six months. To be fair, he’d had a lot of practice. He hummed faintly, leaning in to deepen the kiss. This time, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Damaged and broken though she knew they both were, she couldn’t help melting against him.

“I saw myself in him,” Abner mumbled after he’d pulled back from her. His eyes darted briefly to the TV as credits rolled across the screen, “Watching it the first time. I always thought that the plastic wrap was the most romantic thing. Y’know, just… wanting to be so close to someone you couldn’t be close to that you came up with any solution you could. And… being loved even though you weren’t normal.”

As he spoke, he rubbed anxiously at his wrists, seeming not even to realize that he was doing it. Nikoletta took his hands and gave his fingers a brief squeeze, succeeding in drawing his eyes back to her. Something softened in his expression as he did - not only affection, but something like closure. He’d gotten what he wanted, in a way that almost seemed like fate. 

Nikoletta released his hands only a moment later, and gently shooed Baron off her lap so she could stand up. Abner gave her a tilted look, that familiar crease reappearing between his dark eyebrows. 

“Where are you going?”

“The show’s making me hungry,” she said, tilting her head towards the kitchen, “I was going to see if I could get a pie put together. Wanna help?”

“I’m- um, I’m really not much of a cook.”

Nikoletta shrugged.

“Then we’ll try, and fail, and go to the pie shop down the block instead.” she said, “C’mon.”

She ducked into the kitchen, trusting that he would follow, and sifted through the counters until she found what she needed. Flour, sugar, a recipe she’d pulled off a can of sweetened condensed milk… and a box of plastic wrap. 

She didn't really need it anymore. Not for anything except cooking, that was.

But when had romance ever been about need?

[practically-an-x-man]

"And if you need any help- Please. Hesitate to ask."

Just a little prompt for you

Oooh, I've been pondering this one for a while and I think I want to try something with Nikoletta...

____ New Blood

Word Count: 2.2k Content Warnings: mild fighting, nothing too extreme ____

Nikoletta Bordeaux lounged on her cot, picking at a loose thread at the corner of her blanket. Reputation only ever got her so far. These long days got boring, and the amount of shenanigans she was able to pull were few and far between most days. It didn't suit her to start trouble just for starting trouble - it wobbled her seat of power, her carefully-balanced perch at the top of the food chain - and Waller hadn't brought in any new blood lately.

Which left her with very few things to do. She'd done her rounds. Everybody here knew who she was, the power she held. She wasn't hungry, nor tired enough to sleep. She'd scoured the halls for gossip, ducking into shadows to eavesdrop, and had come up with pitifully little of interest.

So she waited. And hoped something interesting would happen eventually.

She didn't realize she'd begun to drift off until a metallic clang startled her awake. Nikoletta jolted upright, one hand sneaking automatically back towards the far corner of her cot. There was always a shadow there, something to sink into if anyone tried to cause her harm-

But it was only Waller, standing in the doorway with one first against the metal jamb. She offered Nikoletta a thinly-veiled glare. It was a look she returned.

"Up, Bordeaux. Now."

"Fresh meat?" Nikoletta guessed, drawing her spine straight in an unconscious attempt to appear more powerful. It worked on most of the other prisoners. It did not work on Amanda Waller.

"A few." she responded, lifting her other hand to show off a fistful of manila folders. She tossed them onto the cot, the strings in the cheap mattress creaking with the impact. Nikoletta closed her fingers around them as if they might grow legs and skitter away.

"Finally." she muttered under her breath. Waller hmphed from the door.

"They're getting introduced now. Read your files and get out there."

"Pushy, pushy." Nikoletta said, daring to look her right in the face, "You're getting awfully demanding, Amanda."

"You're not the one in charge here, Bordeaux, much as you like to pretend you are."

"You and I both know I'm here of my own free will," she fired back, her New Orleans drawl ribboning around the words and softening her threat into something more languid, "There's nothing you can do to hold me here."

"Believe me, we'll find something." Waller hissed, her voice icy. There was something practiced about it. Nikoletta would know. She'd done the same. Amanda Waller waved a hand, tension clear in her posture. "Read the files. Take care of it. And if you need any help- please. Hesitate to ask."

She was gone before Nikoletta could say another word.

Sighing, she flipped through the files. There wasn't much excitement to be found.

One man would be serving life after he sent Superman into respiratory distress with vaporized kryptonite. Typical. Half the inmates in here for targeting Supes. It was like some kind of ego boost, trying to find a way to take down the most powerful man in the universe. None succeeded, and those that survived were sent to Belle Reve. At this point, it was almost pathetic. One would think they'd at least pick a new target.

Two women were partners in crime, sent in together after attempting to bust into Fort Knox. One of them could make herself intangible, the file read, and the other had some sort of hypnosis that distracted the guards. Both would be sent to private cells, with power dampeners to prevent escape.

If there was one thing Nikoletta was certain about, it was that they'd find her swinging from a water pipe before they ever put a power dampener on her.

She almost smiled as she read the next file. The man - a dark-haired, slender fellow with tired eyes - was claimed to have taken down all of STAR Labs before he arrived. If so, good riddance. Much of his file was redacted in dark ink, unfortunately robbing her of the chance to read that whole story, but she hoped it had gone up in flames. She hoped there was nothing left of that infernal place.

Which left the last one. Another man. His file had been redacted too, even more than the prior one. She didn't get a name, nor a birthdate, nor what he'd been sent to Belle Reve for. She didn't know if he was a meta or not - often very useful information, for someone like her. All she had was a photo, pinned to the corner of the file. There was a smudge at the bottom of the photograph, a drop of spilled ink that had been ineffectively wiped away.

Waller's signal.

Whatever he'd done, she didn't want to deal with him. She wanted him gone.

Easy.

Nikoletta stood up from her cot, pausing to stretch her aching limbs. Sometimes she wondered where those aches came from. A remnant from her capture at STAR Labs? Her body warning her that it wasn't meant to dive between worlds like she did? Or simply a lingering echo of her malnourished childhood?

She didn't know. It didn't matter. She'd never let them see her pain anyway.

Nikoletta tugged a pair of leather gloves onto her hands, flexing her fingers a few times to loosen them up. It was the only amenity they'd willingly offer her, and largely because the alternative was worse.

She spared a final glance at the files, then tucked them under her pillow. Waller would collect them later. Nikoletta never got to keep what she was given.

She took in a deep breath and straightened her spine, drawing into her mind images of power and grace. Outside this room, she was so much more than herself.

The Queen of Belle Reve stepped out of her cell.

____

"Which one, boss?"

"Haven't spotted him yet. Seems he's a bit of a loner." Nikoletta responded, lifting a soggy French fry into her mouth, "You'll know when I mark him."

"But I never get there first when you mark them." the man muttered, hunched over his dinner tray, "Can't you just let me have him? Once?"

"Be my guest. If you'd like to end up in a week of solitary." she snapped, giving him a warning look, "If you want my protection... you follow my rules. Nobody goes down unless they're marked. We keep things clean around here."

As she spoke, she trailed a finger along one wilted leaf of lettuce from her tray. She only wore one glove now, and inky darkness followed her unprotected touch - truly, fully black, darker even than rot. Finger-painting with shadows. Nikoletta glanced down at it, then crushed the leaf into her hand and watched the darkness overtake it. Anything organic would do the same. Save for her own skin, nothing was safe.

"C'mon, Nik, please-"

"Adrian." she hissed, "I cannot make exceptions. If you want him, go get him. But then you put yourself outside my jurisdiction. You go after the ones that I've marked, and those only, or you put your blood in the water. Your choice."

He sighed and lifted his hand to adjust his glasses, refusing to meet Nikoletta's eyes. He knew she was right.

"Could you at least... mark him when I'm close by?" he muttered a moment later, "Otherwise I can never get there in time."

A shout rang out just as he finished, and dozens of eyes snapped to the other side of the galley. Some stayed there. Others turned to Nikoletta, watching for her next move. It took her a moment to decode the situation.

"You just might get your wish..." she muttered, easily sliding out of her seat, "Stay close."

Adrian beamed and hopped up from the bench, disregarding his tray of food. He was smaller than most of the other guys in this joint, though that didn't matter. She'd seen him fight. He was ruthless. And casually ruthless too, which was almost worse. He enjoyed what he did. Even with no weapons, no powers, nothing to make him stand out, he was one of the more dangerous prisoners to be found in Belle Reve.

It was exactly why she'd kept him so close.

A fight had broken out in the far corner of the cafeteria. None of the guards were attempting to stop it- not yet. A dark-haired man lay sprawled on the linoleum, painted with his own spilled tray of food. He wore a power dampener around his neck, but he wasn't even attempting to fight. Standing over him... the man from her photo. The one Waller wanted gone.

"Excuse me, gentlemen." Nikoletta's voice rang out, drawing eyes from every corner of the cafeteria. It included the larger man, the new inmate. She gave him a false smile. "You're one of the new ones, aren't you?"

"Yeah. N'who're you?" he huffed, his voice so gravelly she expected him to cough up diamonds when he'd finished. Nikoletta's face held no emotion. Her eyes reflected no light, only pools of pure shadow.

"I'm the queen around here. You ought to stay quiet until you learn how I run things. Or I must say- it won't end well for you."

"Heh. I'd snap you like a twig."

Nikoletta tilted her head. She hadn't been in the mood for a public display... but these newbies would need to learn who she was. And the rest could use a reminder. This one would prove a good example.

"Try."

He didn't grant her so much as a moment. She didn't need one.

He charged for her, his broad frame filling her vision and casting her face in shadow. Perfect.

She didn't move so much as an inch, not until she saw his fist swinging for her. Then she melted into the shadows.

Nikoletta reappeared a step behind him, though his lost momentum spun him in a circle to face her once again. For just a moment, he was too dazed to react. That was all she needed.

Her fist swung out, clipping him in the jaw and sending him staggering back a step. She was too small a woman to topple him, but darkness burst across his jaw like he'd been struck with a paintball. Nikoletta took a calm step back as he reeled.

"I'll end this here. But you'll learn your place." she advised. The new inmate growled, promising danger. But she turned her back on him. Here in Belle Reve, her greatest asset was not her shadows. It was the army at her back.

"They outta put a collar on you too." the newbie snapped, though she heard no telltale footsteps of him advancing. Either her demonstration has succeeded, and he'd learned his place... or he'd just realized he was suddenly surrounded by threats.

"What do you think happened when they tried?"

She strode away from the man, her gloved hand clapping Adrian on the shoulder as she passed.

"All yours. Go nuts."

"With so many people-"

"Waller wanted him gone. Guards won't blink."

A slow grin spread across his face, deceptively bright and open for what she'd just promised him. He looked like a kid on Christmas, surveying the array of presents under the tree. Nikoletta found herself returning his smile, though hers was faint and didn't quite reach her eyes.

She approached the man on the floor. He was working his way up to his feet, struggling to get his balance with the heavy collar around his neck. She did not offer him a hand, but he shot her a grateful look all the same.

"Thank you." he mumbled. His voice was as meek as the rest of him. He wrung his hands in front of his body, his eyes darting from place to place. Once, they managed to jump all the way up to her face, and she saw that they were nearly as dark as her own. He moved to hold out a hand, then reconsidered. "I'm- um, I'm Abne-"

"Word of advice." Nikoletta cut him off, "No names. No stories. No powers. Don't stand out. For a guy like you, that's your best chance in this place."

"Oh- okay, I-"

"I mean it. Head down. Or they'll make you a target. Do you understand?"

He nodded just a hair too fast. Nikoletta all but ignored the motion, dark eyes flicking across his food-spattered jumpsuit and discarded tray. She did feel bad for him, in a way. It wasn't her first run-in with these meek types, and often the quietest proved to be the most dangerous in the end. People boasted about what they were proud of, but nobody broadcasted the truly awful deeds. Not if they wanted to last.

But there was something different about this one. She wondered what he'd done to end up here. She wondered what had driven him to tear STAR Labs up at the roots. She wondered why they put him in such a heavy power dampener.

She was sure she'd learn eventually.

Rumor traveled quickly in Belle Reve.

[embodyingchaos]

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[practically-an-x-man]

Nightmares (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: Nikoletta wakes up from a nightmare to find someone else has done the same

Tags: angst, dark themes, depictions of nightmares, mention of needles

Word Count: 2.6k

____

For the thousandth time, she saw the lab. She watched the needles plunge into her skin in a dozen places, saw the shadows sink into her flesh. She heard the sound of her own screams, echoing in her mind. And she heard the words of the doctors, false comforts and appeasements as they watched from behind a pane of thick glass.

She hated that glass. She'd always hated that glass. It represented everything that had brought her life to this, the split between worlds she'd always experienced. Rich tourists came and taunted her, dropped their pennies for a so-called "voodoo telling" and laughed, heedless to the way their few dollars meant the difference between life and death. Doctors wearing white coats and blank expressions experimented on her, spending millions on their machines but claiming they could barely scrounge up enough cash to feed her.

In reality, she'd spent about a month at the lab before they released her. In the dream, it felt like years. Doctors came and went in an endless flood. Needles sank into her flesh, deposited their liquid shadows, only the shadows never left.

Darkness pooled in her, chilling her to the bone. It was colder than she'd ever felt, so much ice in her veins that she thought she'd freeze to death on the spot. In the real world, she'd made it out alive. But here, here in this nightmare, it seemed endless. She'd waste her life away in this sea of doctors and machines, with the shadows filling her to the brim, with a cold so profound she couldn't-

Nikoletta Bordeaux sat bolt upright in her cot.

Her whole body was trembling uncontrollably, and she wrapped her arms around herself to try and siphon some warmth back into her chest. The cold never left. She'd gotten used to it over time, but it never left. It wasn't only the shadows that gave her a death-touch. She had no warmth. She felt like death. That alone chased people away almost as much as the shadows themselves.

She wrapped her blanket, a thin square of scratchy, stained cotton, around her shoulders. It helped a little. Not much. Nothing ever did. Sometimes she wondered if she needed organic warmth, a living body pressed up against her own, and that might make a difference.

But that was something she couldn't have. All she could do was wonder.

She didn't know what time it was. There was no clock in her cell. But the prison was dark around her, and Nikoletta could hear a chorus of snores from the neighboring cells. She had hours before any of them would be up.

Sighing, she sank into the shadows of her cell and reappeared on the other side.

It wouldn't do well for the other prisoners to see her like this. She was the Queen of Belle Reve, after all. She had a reputation to maintain. The safest place for weakness was inside her cell, where the others couldn't catch as much as a glimpse.

But she couldn't do with any more captivity right now.

Nikoletta wandered the halls, her steps near-silent even in the echoing expanse of the prison. That much wasn't innate. It was one of the first things she'd taught herself when she reached Belle Reve.

Finally she found the cafeteria, lit only by a few spare bulbs, and practically fell into a seat at one of the dining tables. There was nobody around, no neighboring cells to look in. And it was one of the wider rooms in the prison. It helped her feel a little less captive.

Not that she was ever really captive here. She could slip away in a heartbeat. There was no way to truly remove all shadows from the world. She was little more than a ghost here. But Belle Reve granted her power the outside world didn't, so she stayed. For now.

She was lost in her thoughts for a long time, slumped over the table with her head in her hands. Time was irrelevant. Memories still sparked like firecrackers in her head.

The room was cold. Nikoletta was only dimly aware of it - a distant observation, not a concern. She could hardly feel it anyway, when her skin was already so chilled. Some nights were better than others. Some nights she felt almost normal.

This was not one of those nights.

Shadows. Needles. White coats and steel machines. Screams echoing from down the hall, almost identical to her own. She still didn't know how many they'd taken, or what experiments they'd run. She didn't know if any of the others had made it out alive. The screams - or sometimes, the way the screams finally stopped - told her they hadn't.

For a moment, she wondered if one of the new arrivals had power over memories or nightmares. She hadn't dealt with a night so bad, so vivid, in a long time. She'd managed to bury most of those memories. Her past was not something she let herself dwell on for long.

Cold. Utter cold. Shadows trailing her touch. Her clothing - cotton and wool and leather - stained black. Her books damaged until they were illegible. A brush of the hand across a counter in the coffeeshop- marked. Forever. She'd learned to be careful quickly. She'd learned to avoid all contact with others.

Something hit the table beside her, and she was so lost in her thoughts that she jumped. It was... a coffee cup. Filled with dark, steaming liquid. Nikoletta blinked.

"I, uh... I don't know if you drink coffee or not." a soft voice greeted her, and a dark-haired man took the seat across the table, "And I couldn't find sugar or... or anything like that. But I thought it might help?"

She didn't know when he'd come in. Usually she was a little more observant than this. But she was too tired to let her shock linger. Besides, there were far too many shadows in this dark room for him to hurt her.

"Oh- thank you," she said, folding the coffee cup into her hands but not taking a sip. The cup was paper, and shadows spread under her touch. Nikoletta winced, fumbling in her pocket for her gloves.

When she had her gloves on, she found herself taking a second look at the man. She recognized him. He was the one she'd rescued, back in his first day in Belle Reve. The quiet one, with the dark eyes and darker hair and the power dampener locked around his neck. There were deep hollows under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in a while.

She knew who he was. She decided not to ask about the rest.

"Nightmare?" he mumbled, ducking her eyes, "I, uh, I get them too."

Nikoletta ignored the question.

"How'd you get out of your cell?" she asked, trying to force a confidence she didn't truly feel into her voice. It still wavered, despite her best efforts.

"They don't lock it at night." he replied, with the same soft and hesitant tone of voice, "I don't like small spaces. I think they're afraid that I'll... break something."

"They don't care if you trash your cell. They'll just make you live in it like that."

"No, I..." he trailed off, but glanced down at his hands, "I mean really break something. That they- uh, can't fix."

He wrung his fingers together, still refusing to meet her eyes. Nikoletta pressed her lips together, managing to connect the dots. He had power. Enough power that they worried even that heavy power dampener wouldn't be enough to hold him. Not if he were... motivated. And terror was a very good motivator.

"How'd you get out?"

"Shadows. They can't hold me anywhere." Nikoletta responded, idly lifting her coffee cup to her lips and taking a sip. It didn't replace the warmth she'd lost, but... it was a start.

The man was silent - not like he thought the conversation was over, but like he had no idea how to continue it. From what she'd seen of him these past few weeks, he was more than a little antisocial. Didn't talk to other inmates, barely even spoke to the guards or employees, avoided any social interaction he could manage to weasel his way out of. He'd been keeping his head down, like she'd told him to.

"You're Abner, right?" she found herself asking, though her voice wasn't much louder than his own. His eyes snapped up to hers in surprise.

"You remembered?" There was a bit of hope in the words, and it made her heart ache. Definitely a loner. Perhaps not entirely by choice.

"Of course. I know everyone in this place," Nikoletta replied, "I'm the queen."

"Why do you-"

"You made it out of STAR Labs, didn't you?" she cut him off, avoiding another question she didn't want to answer, "How'd you take that shithole down?"

Abner opened his mouth to answer, then shook his head. He was fiddling with his hands again. Nikoletta lifted her coffee cup to her lips for another sip. It was tepid, watery, but better than nothing.

"I came from that place too," she found herself admitting, though she wasn't entirely sure why, "That's what made me like this."

"Cold?"

That made her pause, half-formed words dying on her lips. Nikoletta frowned. It was her turn to wring her hands together. Even through her gloves, her fingers felt chilly. But that wasn't what he meant. That couldn't be what he meant, because he'd never touched her. Nobody had. Not really. Not if they wanted to live.

"Yeah," she muttered, voice rough as she pulled her coffee cup a little closer, "Cold."

Nikoletta sighed and moved to slide out of her seat. This wasn't helping her. If anything, it was making her feel worse. She hadn't improved her life since she left that damn lab. If anything, she'd made it worse. Not only for herself, but for everyone around her.

She could have kept her head down. She could have lived a semi-normal life if she tried. But... she didn't try. She'd built herself up into this untouchable persona, constructed walls so sturdy even she herself couldn't crack them. Because that was safer.

At least for a while.

"Thanks for the coffee." she mumbled, drawing back.

"Wait- hang on, I didn't-" Abner stammered, standing up from his own seat like he wanted to follow.

Nikoletta ignored him. What difference did it make? She knew he wouldn't last long in a place like this. There were corners of Belle Reve that weren't under her protection, and his shifting eyes and the dampener around his neck painted him as a target to anyone who wanted to knock somebody around for a while. She'd seen that from his very first day. It was hardly worth protecting him at all, let alone getting close.

Slender fingers closed around her wrist. Her whole body went still.

"Please wait."

Her gloves. Her sleeves. He was safe- for the moment.

"Don't touch me." Nikoletta muttered, though the words came out far too hoarse to be a threat, "You'll regret it."

His fingers released their grip, and he slowly drew his arm back to his side. Nikoletta didn't move.

"What's your name?" Abner asked, that hesitance creeping back into his voice. Even in the near-silent cafeteria, she could barely hear him. "Your- your real name, I mean. Does anyone here know it?"

"Of course people know it." she hissed, "What kind of a question is that?"

Waller knew. Flag knew. Adrian knew. Blackguard had overhead Waller say it once, and tried calling her "Boredom" for a while. That didn't last long. But her name wasn't hidden.

"I don't know it," Abner said. He was almost whispering now. It was a little strange, she thought. He didn't stammer quite like most people did. He knew what he wanted to say, he just... got quiet like this. Like he wasn't used to being allowed a voice. Something about that made her heart hurt.

"Nikoletta." she answered, forcing a casual shrug, "People used to call me Nikki. Not so much in here."

His face brightened considerably. It was charming, in a way - like a dog overhearing the word "treat", excitement that came out of the blue with just a word. He gestured at himself, moving with more zeal than she'd seen from him in the three weeks he'd been here.

"I'm Abner," he said, though she already knew. There was almost a smile on his face. Not quite there, but... almost. "I've never really had a nickname. Kind of hard to make something out of that."

"I like it as it is." Nikoletta found herself saying, unsure of where these words were coming from, "It's unique."

That drew a bit more of a smile from him- still faint, still hesitant, but a little more. It even drew an answering smile from her.

When was the last time she'd smiled? When was the last time someone had talked to her like this - like she was real, tangible, the human being behind the persona?

Abner cleared his throat, summoning his courage with a visible effort. Then he held out a hand to her. Nikoletta just stared at it.

"It's nice to meet you," he said, dark eyes flicking from her face to his extended hand, "Nikoletta."

"You shouldn't." she said, looking at his hand like it was something foreign to her. In a way, it was. Even when she wore her gloves, covered her skin, people here shied away from her touch like it was the plague. In Belle Reve, it might as well have been.

"I'm not afraid." he said. His voice had gotten low again, but she could hear truth in it. He was afraid of something, yes, she could hear it in every word he spoke. But that something wasn't her, and it wasn't her shadows.

How strange.

"We're the same." Abner insisted, keeping his hand still extended to her, "If you're not afraid of me, I'm not afraid of you."

She couldn't see how she could be frightened of him. He was so... quiet. And even behind the fear she could see in his movements, there was something gentle about him. If it weren't for the power dampener around his neck, a clear sign of something dangerous that lay within him, she'd never have been able to reconcile this man with the destruction of STAR Labs. He looked more like he belonged in the corner of a bookstore somewhere, poring over pages of English poetry.

Nikoletta reached out and shook his hand, just three quick pumps. She pulled back too fast, almost like the touch had burned her. It hadn't, but he was... warm. She could feel it even through her gloves. Were all people this warm? Had she just forgotten?

She found herself taking a step back, pulling herself away from all this strangeness. She held her hand clutched against her chest, savoring the lingering warmth as it sank into her skin. Abner watched her in silence for a long time, a curious expression on his face. She couldn't quite make it out.

"I burned it down." he finally whispered.

"What?"

"STAR Labs. You- um, you asked," he explained, "I burned it down. There's nothing left. It's gone."

No more doctors, her brain supplied, No more needles. No more experiments. You're free. They're all free.

"Thank you." she managed, her voice hardly more than a rough whisper. Her eyes stung, and for a moment she thought she might cry. Abner shifted on his feet, looking vaguely uncomfortable with the unexpected display of emotion.

For the briefest moment, he lifted his arms as if offering her a hug.

Then Nikoletta vanished into the shadows.

[practically-an-x-man]

6, 22, 23, 30, 35, 48 for the fanfic asks?

Thank you!!

Fanfiction Writing Asks

6. What’s the last line you wrote?

From what should be the last chapter of A Love Once New, once I actually get it written up:

“Eh. I was fourteen. Heard it had alcohol in it.” he said, “Doesn’t get you drunk, though, just gets you sick as all hell. Without the healing factor I’da probably gone to the hospital.”

(he's talking about vanilla extract lol)

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process?  How do you come up with titles?

If it's a oneshot, it's usually after I've finished writing it. For a longfic, I'll usually write the first 3 chapters before I start posting it, and I come up with the title just before posting it. I'm not great with titles (though I'm trying to get better) so I don't really have a system - unless I'm going with song titles, which I do with a couple of my fics - and I just try to come up with whatever I can to get it posted lol

23. Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

The middle is usually the easiest, once I get rolling into the plot and can actually start writing the scenes I want to write. The ending is the hardest, partially because there's always more scenes I could write and it's hard to know when to end it, and partially because I struggle to pace out an ending without it either dragging on or feeling choppy.

30. How much do you edit your fics?  Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

I usually edit as I write - I start each writing session by rereading what I've already written and making tweaks. Then I give it one final scan as I'm getting it uploaded to AO3/tumblr (mostly bc I have to manually input my italics and things into AO3).

35. What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

Aw man, I love them all for different reasons!! I think Desert Song has some of the most unique character interactions, and I think Quinn is one of my most dynamic OCs. Taking Flight and WWFA? have some of my best stylistic writing, especially with the descriptions of magic. Heartstrings also has really fun emotional descriptions and character interactions, and some of my favorite dialogue. Smoke and Mirrors is about recovery and finding home, and I still adore its friends-to-lovers arc. Bolts and Blasters is a really fun slowburn and has strong themes of expectation vs. choice. Catch and Release deals with grief, and has some of the best fight scenes I've ever written. Eris' fics are fun because of their dynamic with Rick, and Nikoletta's I love because of the themes of physical and emotional healing.

That probably just sounds like I'm bragging on myself, and maybe I am a little, but I really do set out for something different in each of my fics and I think I strike on different strengths with every single one. I really can't choose!

48. Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

Agh man, this one is also impossible to choose between!! One of my favorite things in writing is character analysis and exploring different dynamics, so I love these characters all for different reasons too! I could ramble on again like I did in the last question, because I really do have something to love about every character I write for...

But for the sake of making a choice, I'll say this: Quinn is the most fun OC to write since she's such a total wild card, and Warren/Angel will always be my number one canon character to write for because he has such an interesting story and a lot of emotional depth to explore. Abner Krill has also become a recent favorite, since he's also got a lot of emotional trauma and depth to explore.

[practically-an-x-man]

Ok it's so funny that you asked me that cause when I have time I'll absolutely want to read through your writing (especially after skimming through, holy crap these look so interesting). Where would you recommend I start? I got decent knowledge of most things superhero related and Star Wars too (welllll, movie-wise at least for the former). And feel free to shoot recs my way as well! :D

Awww thank you!!

Let's see... if you're looking for longfics, I'd highly recommend Catch and Release - lots of action, Ophelia is a super dynamic OC of mine, and I would consider it to be some of my best writing overall. It's mainly based on Spider-Man: No Way Home, but it also dips into other Spider-Man properties here and there (nothing too deep, mainly just connections to the Raimiverse and a guest appearance from a Spiderverse character), so you should be good with your movieverse superhero knowledge :D

I do also have a Star Wars longfic called Bolts and Blasters. It's one of those that I usually hesitate to recommend - I'm proud of the story and writing and I think it's overall a pretty good fic, but I know that Hux is a very polarizing character and he's definitely present in the fic lol. It's also got a very action-packed plot and a nice slowburn romance, and a good deal of angst and whump (I know you love that lol)

And if you don't have the time or spoons for a longfic, I've got a couple oneshot series in the Suicide Squad universe - Prismatic is a collection of fics with my OC Nikoletta and Abner Krill, and Strife to Sanctum features my OC named Eris and Rick Flag. These can be read in any order, and you can skip or jump around as you please, but you'll get the most references and details if you read them in the order they're posted.

Sorry this is really long, please don't feel obligated to read all of these, or anything you don't feel like reading, I just wanted to make sure you had a couple options since I don't know what all you like yet.