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anistarrose · 4 years

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Summary: Taako unlocks a backstory reveal, Kravitz notices an astronomical discrepancy, and Noelle completes an errand. It’s an evening of relaxation and bonding for some, and a night of furtive preparation for others, but one thing is constant — everyone is missing a few pieces of the story.

Characters: Kravitz, Taako, Barry Bluejeans, Angus McDonald, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, Noelle | No-3113, The Raven Queen, The Director | Lucretia, misc. BoB cameos, Julia Burnsides, Garyl

Relationships: Taakitz, Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz, Kravitz & Angus McDonald

Hey, guess what fic isn’t dead! Before we get into the action, I just want to state for the record that I, Rose, think mullets are generally a valid hairstyle (including on Barry Bluejeans). The opinions on mullets that a certain character expresses in this chapter are in no way representative of my views as the author. Anyways, enjoy the Taakitz before the storm!

(A “previously on,” since it’s been so long since the last chapter: THB all know Barry is the Red Robe, Barry knows THB are in trouble for death crimes, and he’s shared all his relevant backstory details with Noelle, who has agreed to help him save the boys from Kravitz with the endgame goal of stopping the Hunger. Kravitz has arranged a sort-of date with Taako, which he’s obviously excited for, but he doesn’t know a lich and a robot are out to get him. Meanwhile, Garyl doesn’t know why Taako stopped hanging out with liches about twelve years ago, and is really missing the spectral oats said liches always gave him. I think that’s everything everyone knows and doesn’t know!)

***

The Raven Queen had always reminded Kravitz of his mortal mother, not just because of the physical resemblance — which was indeed present, albeit slightly diminished by the beaked mask that concealed the Queen’s nose and eyes — but because of her temperament, kind but stern. She was a fair judge, and even a surprisingly forgiving one at times, but she held no reservations against telling people they could do better, if she believed it to be true.

So when the Queen approached Kravitz during his walk along the coast of the Astral Sea, in her usual form of a dark-skinned woman wearing a magnificent feathered cloak, Kravitz breathed a sigh of relief when he saw she was smiling at him. Her ethereal voice was both diminutive and thunderous at once, but thankfully free of disappointment or malice.

My child.

She unfurled not just one pair of midnight-black wings, but a hundred pairs, and suddenly she embodied an entire flock of ravens, circling Kravitz with impossible synchronicity and silence.

Come fly with me.

Kravitz leapt into the air, changing shape and sprouting wings of his own. In the form of a rook with dark blue-gray feathers and the pattern of an avian skull atop his head in light gray, he took off across the sea, and the Queen followed, casting a hundred identical shadows atop the waves.

This airborne sightseeing tour across the afterlife was not a new ritual for them — they’d done this countless times since the Raven Queen had first taught Kravitz to fly, lifetimes ago — but Kravitz had noticed, over the past century or two, that the Queen almost exclusively reserved these flights for days when Kravitz felt stressed.

They soared through a cloud of souls, which danced and shimmered like snowflakes in a gentle breeze, and as they exited it, he finally spoke. “It’s a pleasure to see you as always, my Queen, but… er, what is it that brings you here today?”

My dear Kravitz, you’re even a bundle of nerves when you’re a bird. You’re not letting those elusive lich bounties get to you, are you?

“I… I suppose I have been letting it get to me. In a way.”

Kravitz, you are competent and you are worthy. You needn’t fear me reprimanding you — I have no doubt that you will capture them eventually. After all, you have a promising new strategy, don’t you?

“My Queen, I…” Kravitz trailed off. The scenery of the Astral Plane changed with every flight, but today he’d stopped taking it in, preoccupied with wracking his brain for the right words. “I appreciate that — but it’s really that ‘new strategy’ you mention that I’ve been worrying about, not the liches themselves. I’ve been talking to Taako, and to a lesser extent Magnus and Merle, and —”

The flock’s flight slowed, and two hundred glassy raven eyes all fixated on Kravitz as he transformed back into a human, hovering in midair and clasping his hands together as he spoke.

“I didn’t believe them at first, but they really don’t remember their crimes against death, I’m sure of it. They’re not dangerous people — dangerous to themselves when they rush into danger, maybe, but not dangerous to the world. They stopped Legion, and their friend Angus has been telling me about all the people they’ve saved from the Grand Relics, and I — I would not feel justified reaping their souls, even if they fail to capture Bluejeans and Lup. There’s just so much we don’t know about how they’ve violated the laws of life and death — it may not have even been intentional on their part. My Queen, I sincerely believe we should grant them the same benefit of the doubt we grant to people roped into necromantic cults against their will — I can vouch for their character, and I know many other souls, both living and dead, who will do the same.”

Kravitz…

The flock was completely frozen in place now, and though he didn’t need to, Kravitz held his breath — a nervous habit from his life that he still hadn’t broken after centuries.

Is this why you’ve been stressed? Because you were anticipating this conversation?

“Partly, my Queen.”

I trust your judgement, Kravitz. I cannot pardon these three bounties altogether, knowing so little about their offenses — but if you deem it fitting, then I will grant them an indefinite respite as we investigate further. In the meantime, what do you propose for the escaped soul Noelle Redcheek and the necromancer Lucas Miller?

“So far, neither of them have done ill with their borrowed time. Noelle never asked to return to the world of the living, and she fought heroically against Legion, while Lucas… well, I spoke to his mother, and she seemed confident that he’d learned his lesson. I think we should allow them to stay in the world of the living until they die, provided they commit no more necromantic offenses.”

Then that shall be our policy moving forwards. Do keep an eye on Lucas, if nothing else, but I reviewed Noelle’s file personally this morning, and she sounds like a pleasant young spirit.

Still hovering in the air, Kravitz executed a bow as he let out his breath. “I appreciate the trust, my Queen.”

I will consult with Istus, to see if she can discern the pasts or destinies of the three… unique bounties. Until then, they are to be presumed innocent.

Kravitz smiled, because it was no secret that the Raven Queen relished every excuse to consult with the Lady of Fate. “I’m sure Lady Istus will be happy to hear from you.”

She will, and I don’t need to be the goddess of fate to know that. The ravens swarmed together, consolidating back into a seven-foot tall woman with dark brown skin, black roses adorning her hair, and sapphire-blue eyes glowing from behind the slits in her mask. She draped a cloaked arm over Kravitz’s shoulder as she continued:

Now, my child, you said something else was bothering you besides the status of your bounties?

“Well, it’s… I just…” Kravitz shook his head. “Let me put it this way: do you ever get nervous before talking to Istus, even though you always like spending time with her and know she feels the same? I guess you probably don’t, because you’re a goddess —”

Oh, I do.

“Oh.”

Do you have a commitment tonight? Let me guess — with Taako?

Kravitz smiled sheepishly. “We… er, I’m not even sure which one of us talked the other into it, but we might have arranged to go to a wine and pottery place on the moon together —”

Of course, the Chug ‘N Squeeze. There’s one in the Celestial Plane as well.

“You’re joking!”

Istus and I have been going there often lately. She loves all arts and crafts, after all.

Kravitz sighed. “Well, I had been wondering where all the clay ravens in my office were coming from.”

Do you like them, my child?

“Oh, they’re wonderful. The real office corvids like to perch on them, I guess to assert their dominance?”

The so-often stoic Queen laughed in a voice that could’ve belonged to a human, despite the cacophony of caws that swept across the Astral Plane in place of an echo. Kravitz, I’m sure your date will be divine. You have my blessing.

“It is helpful, not having to worry about arresting Taako in less than two months,” Kravitz admitted. “Thank you, my Queen.”

One last thing, my child — I’d like you to prioritize hunting down those problem liches, unless anything else comes up. I can’t shake the suspicion that they’re connected to your former bounties’ cases — or should I say for Taako, your potential future boyfriend’s case?

Kravitz spent a few seconds of increasingly awkward silence thinking about that second sentence, but ultimately decided that he didn’t want to challenge it. “Taako and his friends are doing important work of their own at the Bureau of Balance, and I don’t want to drag them away from that any more than I already have — but I’ll ask them to keep me updated if they find any new leads, and I’m quite sure they will. Bluejeans seems drawn to them, and to the Grand Relics, like a moth to a flame.”

So I suspected, the Raven Queen replied. It seems Istus and I have much to discuss.

***

With a dramatic flourish of his scythe, Kravitz stepped out of the rift and into Taako’s kitchen. Taako was leaning against the counter waiting for him, chin in his hands and a smug, catlike grin on his face.

“Sooo, notice anything different about me?”

“Not sure. New hat?” Kravitz replied, feigning confusion. “Just kidding! The new haircut looks great.”

“Finally, someone realizes! Lumberjack Ruffboi and the lunar youth pastor didn’t say a thing about it.” Running his fingers through the considerably shorter hair in question, Taako snorted — apparently in response to the nicknames of his own invention — and Kravitz chuckled along with him.

“Don’t get me wrong, you wear the shorter hair well, but why cut it now?” he asked Taako. “It wasn’t that long —”

“Not that long? It was turning into a mullet, Krav, and that’s fuckin’ unacceptable. Can you imagine us walking into a five-star, metropolitan establishment like the Chug ‘N Squeeze together, you absolutely killing it — pun totally intended — in your feathered cloak and designer suit, only for me to saunter in behind you, sporting an honest-to-Raven Queen mullet? Who do you take me for, Barold J. fucking Bluejeans?”

“Of course!” Kravitz sarcastically conceded, laughing. “Clearly, I was running the risk of mistaking you —” He gestured to Taako, brown-skinned and freckled with distinctly pointed ears, “for my old undead archnemesis Barry —”

He stopped talking as Taako dove to catch his Umbra Staff, which had rolled off the kitchen table seemingly all on its own.

“Hey, what gives?” Taako demanded of the umbrella. “I thought we were cool again after the other night — you got something against me trash-talking mullets, or what?”

The Umbra Staff didn’t reply, and Kravitz rubbed his neck. “Er… you talk to your umbrella often?”

Taako shrugged. “Yeah, and I talk to my wizard hat and my favorite fantasy electric mixer too, sometimes. S’no biggie.”

“Sometimes people in the Material Plane give me strange looks for talking to corvids, so I guess I can’t judge,” Kravitz admitted. “But speaking of talking to birds, I have good news!”

Taako slung his Umbra Staff over his shoulder. “Oh, bird news? That’s my favorite kinda news!”

“I spoke to the Raven Queen this morning, and… well, you’re not entirely out of trouble, but you don’t have to worry about that two month time limit anymore! The Queen decided that since no one knows exactly what your crimes were, we can’t judge you for them fairly, so you and the boys are safe at least until someone cracks that mystery — potentially safe forever, if the truth comes out and the Queen finds it sympathetic. Noelle and Lucas have also been granted amnesty, so don’t worry about them either.”

“Huh.” Taako rubbed his head, blinking slowly a few times. “So… we’re calling it quits on the lich hunts ‘til further notice?”

“More or less, but I’ve got a hunch you’ll run into Barry again whether you’re looking for him or not,” Kravitz answered. “So if or when that happens, I’d love a tip off.”

“Gotcha.” Taako nodded slowly. “Well, at least this’ll be good for Angus. Little half-pint can finally chill out instead of worrying about me all day.”

“Absolutely. See, when I went to beseech the Raven Queen, a big part of my argument was that reaping these doofuses’ souls would make an over-stressed ten-year old very sad,” Kravitz joked, deadpan. “So she really had no choice but to give you a respite — wait. What do you mean, at least?”

“Oh, you know.” Taako shrugged, averting his eyes. “It’s just the end of a short-lived bounty hunting era for ‘cha boy. It was dangerous work, but hey, my whole job is dangerous, right? Solving a lich mystery was a nice break from the routine —”

Then he sighed. “Oh, what happened to me? What happened to Taako’s good out here? I’m not into peril! I shouldn’t be missing it no matter how much…” He met Kravitz’s gaze again, smiling sheepishly this time. “No matter how much I’m gonna miss you, when you’re busy hunting ghosts and I’m busy hunting Grand Relics again.”

“Ah.” Kravitz felt his face grow warm — which should be a rare for a reaper without blood or a heartbeat, but seemed to be happening an awful lot around Taako lately. “Well, if it’s any consolation, the Raven Queen’s pretty generous with vacation days — after all, how do you think I made time for our date tonight?”

Taako’s eyes lit up. “Oh, we’re officially calling it a date? I mean, I knew the subtext was there, but why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”

Kravitz clapped a hand to his mouth, several seconds too late. “That was — oh, gods. That honestly wasn’t — that truly wasn’t intentional, but if you want it to be a date? I would love to call it one.”

“Okay, okay, I got a related idea for you —” Taako leaned in a little closer, and for the first time, Kravitz noticed the flecks of gold and burgundy in his dark brown eyes. “How about we just stop making idiots of ourselves and kiss already?”

Then Taako leaned back and facepalmed. “Damn, I shoulda said ‘stop making idiots of ourselves and make out already!’ That works so much better than —”

Kravitz kissed him on the cheek — just a quick peck, made brief not by a lack of interest in kissing Taako, but by Kravitz’s reluctance to tear his eyes away from Taako’s own for any longer than a few seconds. Taako kissed him back, running his hand down the back of Kravitz’s neck —

Then he withdrew with a jolt. “Aw, we’re about to be late to pottery, aren’t we? I even made reservations —”

“Not while you’re dating me, you’re not!” Kravitz exclaimed, drawing his scythe and slicing open a rift that led directly to the Chug ‘N Squeeze. He grabbed Taako by the hand, and the two of them laughed as they tumbled through the portal, scaring the wits out of the host but earning a cheer from Killian and Carey. Magnus — who was contentedly third-wheeling behind the couple, in his weirdly wholesome Magnus way — raised an eyebrow at first, but then gave a friendly wave and returned to the misshapen cup he was molding.

“Today,” the instructor coughed, clutching his chest, “we’ll be walking through how to make plates. Please, for the love of all the gods in the universe, do not make clay interplanar portals, because we’ve already had more than enough of that.”

“What fun!” Taako exclaimed he settled into his seat, then whispered under his breath to Kravitz: “I dunno what I’m making, but it’s not gonna be a plate. Real art is born when you start out with no plan, and go wherever the moment takes you.”

“Honestly? You do you, but I can’t really relate. Like, maybe it’s because music is the only type of art I normally pursue — but I’d rather have sheet music in front of me as a jumping off point, even if I’m planning to improvise, you know?”

“You were a bard? I shoulda known.” Taako tried to shape his clay into something that could pass for a plate or platter at a glance, yet remain legally distinct. The instructor gave him a suspicious look, but quickly moved on to reprimand Magnus for attempting to recreate his wineglass. “Love you for that, and you know you’ll have to show off your kickass music skills for me one day, but how does a bard wind up working for the death goddess?”

“Interesting story, that,” Kravitz admitted. “You want the long version, or the short version?”

“I dunno, maybe a brief novella?”

“Okay. Yeah, I can work with novella length.” Kravitz leaned back in his chair, removing a few clumps of clay from under his nails. “At the beginning of the end of my lifetime, give-or-take eight hundred and twenty years ago, my sibling and I were travelling a dangerous road, and we got in over our heads. We were passing through an abandoned cemetery, and… it’s hard to forget how we were just joking about how ominous it was…”

He got a distant look in his eyes. “But the second we started to laugh, a gang of bandits jumped out from behind the graves to ambush us. Now, I was a damn good bard and my sibling was a damn good artificer, but we were unprepared for combat — and, worse outnumbered five to two. We pruned their ranks to four, then three, when the first two ruffians tried to charge us, but the other three had both range and cover, and they rained arrows on us from both sides of the road. My sibling took a hit that left them in critical condition, so… I did the only thing a protective older brother could do, upon finding oneself and their injured loved one assailed in a cemetery. It was a split-second, desperate decision, but… I played a song to raise the dead.”

“You did a death crime,” was what Taako said out loud, but what he thought was I’d do the same thing. Which was strange, not just because he couldn’t play any instruments, but because he definitely didn’t have a sibling whose peril would prompt such an arcane outburst from him.

He would’ve liked to have someone like that, though. Someone to unconditionally watch his back on those tough journeys, someone who’d raise the dead for him, someone —

Someone to tell him to quit psychoanalyzing himself on date night, come on, Taako, you’re giving yourself a headache.

“As rash as it was, I’d do it all over again if I had to,” Kravitz confessed, apparently too focused on the story to notice what must’ve been visible confusion on Taako’s face. “Though maybe don’t tell the Raven Queen I said that, because it was… quite the crime.”

Absentmindedly, he picked up a few extra clumps of clay and began to roll them into a thin cylinder between his palms. “The graveyard the bandits had chosen was a good place to ambush travellers, but the perfect place to be ambushed by the undead. The zombies I raised were individually weak, but there must’ve been close to two dozen of them, and they surrounded the ruffians that had surrounded us. While they bought us time, I poured all the power I had left into healing my sibling from the brink of death — and it was all worth it, because they got away safe…”

“But you didn’t,” Taako murmured.

“No,” Kravitz confirmed. “But don’t look so glum. The ending of the story’s not all sad.”

He placed the clay cylinder on his plate-in-progress, flattening it slightly as he affixed it to the rest of his project, then set to work shaping another clump into something quite different. “When I died, I was almost immediately met by the Raven Queen’s reaper at the time. She was… not exactly thrilled that I’d summoned a minor undead army — an undead militia, she called it — but my zombies and the bandits had more or less mutually destroyed each other, while she saw I was a first-time offender who’d only acted in self-defense, and wasn’t putting up a fight as I was escorted away from the world of the living. She told me she would be keeping an eye on me for the first few years of my afterlife, just to make sure I hadn’t developed a taste for necromancy and decided to hatch an escape plan from the Astral Plane, and then escorted me to a a pleasant little island in the Astral Sea.”

Kravitz added the final piece of clay to his creation, and Taako realized he’d formed a raised scythe pattern at the plate’s center. “Hopefully this sticks when it goes into the kiln. Anyway, I spent about the next five years on that island, but the reaper brought me plenty of instruments to play and books to read upon my request, so it was hardly a punishment. I was surprised, though, the day she showed up and said that the Raven Queen had requested my presence.”

“Aha. Now here’s the start of your career, right?”

“Exactly. When she offered me an apprenticeship as the next reaper-in-training, I was initially… apprehensive, to say the least, but I eventually accepted the offer, and… well, you know perfectly where the story goes from here. I was a better fit for the job than I could’ve ever expected, and… there were some nice perks, too.” He smiled. “For one thing, I got to spend a few months with my sibling and parents after each of them passed away.”

“I’m glad that worked out for you,” Taako said, with a sincerity he rarely used in combination with those particular words. For the first time since Kravitz had started talking, he took a good look at his own clay, which looked like… a misshapen lump, or maybe an especially boring rock. He probably could’ve paid more attention to what he was doing, but at least he hadn’t gone and subconsciously made a plate.

“But you know,” he went on, stroking his chin, “I’m intrigued by this implication that by peacefully turning myself in for death crimes, I could get nominated for a reaper job…”

Kravitz laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend that loophole. Maybe if the Queen hadn’t approved your respite, I would suggest it as a last resort —”

“What’s wrong, afraid of me stealing your job?”

“No — I’ve been a reaper for eight centuries, but the one who trained me only retired about four hundred and fifty years ago. Two to four reapers serving concurrently isn’t uncommon. The problem is, the Queen usually chooses reapers who have some prior knowledge of necromancy — without having used it for evil or anything, of course — and unlike most of my bounties, Taako, you don’t seem to be a necromancer? I mean, I’m sure you could learn, because you’re clearly a skilled wizard, but I wouldn’t encourage it. You’re just starting to get out of trouble as is.”

“If you insist,” Taako said with an exaggerated sigh. “So the Raven Queen’s ideal recruits would be, what, a couple of lich superheroes who swore to only use their dark powers for good?”

“In an ideal world, yes — but certainly not in the universe we live in, because those kind of liches don’t exist on any plane I’ve visited. Like I said, I’ve been doing this centuries, and even the rare times I’ve seen liches start out with good intentions, they can’t hold it together once they actually become undead. I guess Barry has debatably held it together, at least compared to the baseline for liches, but gods know what his intentions are, so I don’t plan on offering him a job any time soon.”

Taako took a sip of his wine. “You could still set him up for an interview sometime, just to see,” he suggested, completely deadpan. “Maybe he’ll surprise you.”

***

The view of the night sky was gorgeous from the moonbase, perhaps even on par with the blue-tinged literal heavens of the Astral Plane — but there was also something off about the view tonight, something Kravitz couldn’t quite place.

“What an atmosphere, am I right?” Taako sat down on a bench, still cradling Kravitz’s plate gingerly in his arms. “Who needs telescopes when you can stargaze from the moon?”

“If we ever have another artistic date, we should come out here earlier and try and paint this,” Kravitz agreed aloud. Internally, he was only growing more puzzled as he ran through a laundry list of variables.

The moonbase’s artificial lights had long since dimmed for the evening. They were miles above any other sources of the light pollution that plagued the modern world. The sky was cloudless from horizon to horizon, and the real moon was barely a crescent, hardly a bright enough beacon to drown out the lights of any stars.

So why did the sky look emptier than Kravitz remembered it ever looking in his lifetime, as if an invisible black backdrop at the edge of the Material Plane had slowly inched closer, smothering the most distant stars one by one and dimming the night by a barely-perceptible degree? Was his memory all wrong, or had something subtle yet cosmically pivotal changed?

“One of our artistic dates has got to be something musical,” Taako went on, apparently either unconcerned by the state of the sky or oblivious to it. “You keep up with modern music at all?”

“Mmm, on and off. Not so much recently, but I went to a lot of concerts last century.” Kravitz noticed Taako shivering slightly as a stiff breeze blew past, and draped his raven-feather cloak over Taako’s shoulder.

“Hey, thanks. Will RQ hand these cloaks out to any old Joe, or do you have to be a reaper to wear one?”

“You have to be a reaper to receive one —” Kravitz winked. “— but I have an extra I could loan you, if you promise you won’t wear it next time you commit a death crime.”

“It’ll get me more use than the Cloak of the Manta Ray, that’s for sure,” Taako snorted.

He pecked Kravitz on the lips, and Kravitz kissed back before the two of them both looked back up to the sky again, hand in hand this time.

“This is a very weird question,” Kravitz began, “but do you know how often visible stars go out? It can’t be very often, can it?”

Taako frowned. “Depends. You mean, like, as supernovas, or in the more anticlimactic ways?”

“Either, really. I just… I kind of thought there would be more stars visible from here than you can see from the surface, but the sky looks a little emptier than I remember from stargazing when I was alive.”

“That is weird,” Taako agreed, “‘cause stars all die eventually, and get reborn from the dust left behind — but they burn for millions or billions of years first. A few centuries is just chump change to stars; there’s no way it should make that much of a difference —”

“Okay, that’s what I thought,” Kravitz said. “Maybe my memory’s just cloudy…”

“Hmm. I guess that’s one explanation.” Taako rubbed his chin, then leaned back to rest his head on Kravitz’s shoulder as he squinted at the galaxies overhead. “Hmmm.” His murmur turned to a hum, his breath pleasantly warm on Kravitz’s neck.

“I’m sure you’ve studied more astronomy than I have, so I’ll leave this mystery to you,” Kravitz told him. “I prefer my mysteries down to earth, or maybe in the Underworld —”

“Me? Astronomy? Studying?” Taako laughed, and Kravitz felt him shiver. “You’re giving me too much credit. I just…”

He paused. “Just kinda picked up the basics in my free time, I guess.”

“Your free time where, at wizard school?” Kravitz teased.

“Nope! Taako’s Amazing Self-Taught Wizard Homeschool for life, baby. I just read about astronomy… here and there, I guess. Probs a library, not that it really matters…” Frowning, Taako rubbed his head, and Kravitz saw his hand come away damp with sweat.

“Speaking of libraries, we should visit one together sometime,” Kravitz pivoted, and was relieved to see Taako smile again, sitting up a little taller. “I love catching up on science that was contentious in my lifetime, like germ theory, or what will happen when the sun goes out —”

“Oh, that’s an easy one for us nowadays. We’ve got a few billion years before it turns into a white dwarf and eventually goes nova — not supernova, mind you, but still pretty nova. You won’t wanna be around for it.”

“I’ll try and retire from immortality before then,” Kravitz chuckled. “I’m sure my work would be cut out for me reaping —”

An electric buzz infiltrated the back of his mind, and he tapped two fingers to his temple, adjusting the celestial signal. “I’m so sorry. Hang on a second.”

“Business call?” Taako asked dejectedly.

“Yeah. Necromancers wait for no stargazing date nights.” Kravitz relayed a silent message of confirmation back to the Raven Queen, and lowered his fingers, cutting off the connection. “Alright, the Rockport Fantasy Costco got caught selling necrotic artifacts — again — but it’s not that urgent. Any other couples’ activities you want to squeeze into, let’s see, the next five minutes?”

Taako shook his head. “Nah, better to save all the good stuff for next time than to rush it. But speaking of that — when should next time be?”

“I have no idea when I’ll be free, honestly —” Kravitz admitted, “— but I just remembered! You’re not a wanted man anymore, so I can give you my Stone frequency!”

“Aw, hell yeah!” Taako rummaged through pockets full of pudding and magical trinkets, eventually procuring his own Stone of Farspeech. “Here, plug in your contact info and I’ll text you back —”

“Oh, gods, I was just going to read you my number! Your way is so much more efficient —”

“Hey, Old Man Krav, don’t be too hard on yourself! Most people your age wouldn’t even know what a Stone of Farspeech is —”

Caught up in parting banter, neither Kravitz nor Taako noticed when directly overhead, another star vanished without fanfare as the encroaching void swallowed it whole…

But miles below, at a furtive meeting in the foothills of an ill-charted mountain range, two undead spirits were all too aware.

***

Barry supposed it was obvious that he was nervous. In lieu of a racing heartbeat, the scarlet threads of his robe were repeatedly unravelling, then weaving themselves back together in a slightly different pattern each time — though he supposed he should count his blessings, since at least Noelle looked a lot less horrified than she honestly had the right to be.

“I think I got everything,” she told him, completely unfazed as he snatched the sack of components from her with a shaking, blurry hand. He really hadn’t meant to snatch it, like a feral cat snatching food from a human hand it didn’t yet trust. It had just sort of happened that way.

“Thank you,” was what he meant to tell her, but the sound that came out was indistinguishable from nails on a chalkboard, and he tried again. “Thank you, Noelle.”

The second time, it was more of a rasp — a lot like the voice he’d put on to talk to Taako, Merle, and Magnus in Goldcliff, except not at all intentional this time — but at least it was recognizably his, and for that, he was willing to settle.

“Mister Bluejeans, are you… okay?” Noelle asked him — and there it was, the question he’d been waiting for. “You’re surrounded by an awful lot of crimson lightning.”

“I’ve dealt with worse. I’ll live,” he told her. “Well, no, bad word choice — I’ll survive. Liches like me just… don’t handle negative emotions well, but better I express it than repress it. Besides, I’ve gotten through worse before.”

It must’ve helped, talking to someone who reacted to his eldritch nervous tics with concern rather than horror — because the rasp in his voice started to subside, and his hands looked almost human again, albeit incorporeal, as he sorted through the bag of components Noelle had delivered:

Iron filings by the pound. A few jade crystals, imperfect yet sufficient for their purposes. An arcane core, currently deactivated, yet surrounded by a humming magical aura made from practically the same stuff as Barry’s own current form.

And last but not least, several handfuls of black opals — an unpleasant reminder of the Hunger’s approach, of the stars blinking out and the color being sapped from the world. Their shifting pattern iridescence was so familiar that Barry could easily imagine pure white eyes opening on the surface of the gems, even though he knew he was safe, that these stones were nowhere near perfect circles.

“These will work,” he reported. “Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Oh, come on. It’s the least I could do,” Noelle told him. “Did you finish the cannon upgrade?”

“Sure did.” Barry returned her cannon arm to her, and she reattached it gingerly, humming with satisfaction as she tested moving it around. “Had to override a couple of Lucas’s anti-modding measures, and it’s gonna be a hassle to recharge, but it’s all set up to deal radiant damage now. Just please don’t test it in here, ‘cause my poor subterranean lair may not survive.”

Noelle laughed. “Gotcha. Once I get some practice shots in, I’ll be ready to set the trap. You feeling up to it?”

“I still don’t feel ready,” Barry admitted, “but it’s not like I’ve got any other options, besides sitting here and worrying more. I just… I just have to take it one step at a time.”

He placed the opals back in the bag, along with the other components and a wand he’d made specifically for writing runes. Out of sight and out of mind, if only for a brief respite.

Tomorrow, I’m saving my family from the Grim Reaper, he resolved. Then, I can worry about saving the planar system.

***

End notes:

Taako is actually wrong about what will happen to this planet’s sun in billions of years — white dwarfs only go nova if they’re located in binary or otherwise multiple star systems, like a certain two-sunned planet had ;) There’s also a couple references to the Grand Relics in this chapter that I like to think are clever, let me know if you caught them!

(Also, describing the Taakitz kiss as “a peck on the cheek” was a certified 100 percent intentional bird pun — shoutout to this fic’s awesome beta Fex for encouraging me to take that joke and run with it completely seriously!)

#taz #taz balance #taakitz #kravitz taz #taako taaco #the raven queen #barry bluejeans #no-3113 #taz balance spoilers #fic: ftrala #rosalia writes fic

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hellzyeahwebwielingessays · 4 years

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The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 24: MJ doesn’t even consider raising the alarm in ANY way

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Last time I put to bed why MJ wouldn’t rely upon defeating Beck herself. In this part though I will dissect MJ’s decision to not alert anyone else to Mysterio’s threat.

In Part 20 I dived into many of MJ’s combat experiences and observed that in many/most of them she relied upon assistance from third parties (including Spider-Man).

With this in mind MJ’s failure to alert anyone to the presence of Beck or other current villains is extremely dangerous and irresponsible. She knows her limits from the years she’s dealt with her life being endangered and how often her survival depended upon the help of others. And she has incredibly flimsy reasons to place any trust in Beck, let alone his villainous crewmembers that haven’t got his sob story.

She doesn’t call the police, Spider-Man, her friends in the super hero community nor the (very nearby) West Coast Avenges.

One could argue that there could be perfectly reasonable explanations for why she fails to do this.

Bringing the authorities in could cause the villains to attack , take hostages or slip away once they are alerted. And in Beck’s case he could use his trickery to escape. As for Peter, bringing him in could endanger his career prospects couldn’t it?

I already shot down the latter idea back in part 18. But to expand upon it a bit, by alerting the regular or super human authorities Mary Jane would never have to worry about risking Peter’s well being at all. He’d likely hear about it after the fact, and maybe be upset that she didn’t tell him about Mysterio. But honestly that’s a small price to pay for the greater good and is something that could be pretty easily smoothed over between them. Sooner or later Peter would get over MJ not talking to him if she explained she did it out of concern for him.

As for the regular authorities, MJ could simply inform them of whom they were dealing with and advise them to not go in guns blazing. That’d hopefully give them recourse to properly prepare for who they were dealing with, either by employing weapons designed to deal with super humans or by conducting an undercover investigation of some kind.

And of course they could call in super human assistance themselves. Indeed there is no reason MJ couldn’t contact the regular and super hero authorities.

The super human authorities like the Avengers would have the technology and fire power to deal with Beck. Most of the West Coast Avengers alone are out of his league and in the case of Hawkeye have advanced experience with organizations like SHIELD that would entail stealth. Even if they needed proof Beck was in disguise Reed Richards and Iron Man could likely whip up something to see through Beck’s illusions. They have the technology to see past Skrull impersonators I think he can handle some smoke and mirrors.

But let’s say that’s not the case. Let’s say it’s not fair to bring in canon from beyond the Spider-Man line of titles for our analysis. Or let’s say Mysterio’s technology is really that good, which is arguably proved by his fake alien invasion from ASM v5 #1.

We’d be in a position where the heroes would need to gather proof before they could strike. Well putting aside how many of them are capable of stealth/under cover work and know what they are looking for, couldn’t they simply take one or more of Beck’s crew members (criminal or otherwise) and interrogate them? Are all of them so tight lipped that they would never give up Beck? That’s highly unlikely.

And then of course you have the simple fact that Mary Jane knows where the real Cage McKnight is!

Surely the realisation that there are two individuals who seem to be the same person is just cause to at least arrest Beck on the suspicion of identity theft/impersonation?*

In fact they could use the real McKnight to lay a trap for Beck by learning private information that only he would know and then engineering a scenario with Beck in the hopes of him contradicting this information, obviously whilst they record it.

But MJ doesn’t pay any mind to the real Cage McKnight once she’s told where he is. She doesn’t even consider asking the authorities to check Mysterio’s claims check out! She trusts the word and ‘evidence’ of a man who is notorious for making you see and hear whatever he wants!

And all that aside there are still other options the authorities could take.

Why couldn’t they just shut down the film’s production on some made up excuse and secretly investigate the set and crew?

Why couldn’t they shut down production or arrest ‘McKnight’ due to his illegal employment of criminals?

Why couldn’t they go in gun’s blazing but also prepared to quickly subdue the criminals?

Why couldn’t they reveal they know Beck is McKnight prompting him to run and set a trap for him?

Why couldn’t they at least keep an eye on the production and be ready to leap into action in case anything goes down?

Frankly, given how some of MJ’s super hero friends are just straight up vigilantes and they trust her couldn’t they bend the law and simply ‘abduct’ Beck as McKnight knowing for a fact he’s broken/breaking many, many laws? I mean let’s be real here, Spider-Man has committed breaking and entering many times in the course of his career and whilst that’s awful from a real world POV, in context it’s been for the greater good and we readers understand that because we know the stakes.

Of course the counter argument to all of these is that Beck could’ve just planned for all of them. He could’ve planned a contingency for anyone snooping around McKnight. He could’ve planned a contingency to the authorities closing in on him.

And you know that wouldn’t be at all out of character for him. But it isn’t at all hinted at in AMJ #1, nor that MJ even considers it as a possibility.

And therein lies the problem. He could have done all that preparation…but has he? Does Mary Jane think he might’ve?

The story never talks about that.

You know what else the story doesn’t talk about?

The idea that Beck might be monitoring MJ or that she suspects he might be monitoring her.

That’s another thing that’d be very in character for him. Not only has he got a contingency in place in case anyone comes snooping around or rumbles him but he also has a contingency in place to prevent or at least alert himself to anyone revealing hi secrets.

But this idea is also never even hinted at in the story whatsoever.

This is where we loop all the way back around to what I spoke about in part 2.

The idea that MJ’s failure to alert anyone is the result of her suspecting he’s monitoring her (or has contingencies in place) is a No. Prize attempt. It’s headcanon. It could arguably fill-in a hole in the story but why is that hole there at all?**

AMJ #1 is the first issue. It’s the set up for the premise. Ideally it should put all the pieces on the board that are going to play a role in the story going forward (obviously this can include red herrings) and present the relevant motivations for the story going forward. This means the specifics of why Mary Jane (the lead character) does what she does should be clearly conveyed.

If MJ isn’t alerting the authorities because she is concerned about being monitored, of them being harmed, of bystanders being harmed or of any of the crooks slipping away then the story should at least hint at that if not be explicit about it.***

And you wanna know the real kicker?

It’s extremely debatable if MJ would even refrain from alerting the authorities about Mysterio even if she did suspect Beck had planned for that. If she suspects he is monitoring her she could use her ingenuity to sneak off set and then use a different phone to contact help. Or if that’s not a possibility she is smart enough to figure out a way to contact help without Beck knowing. She could talk to Peter in code. Or contact the Look Ups, the support group for super hero’s loved ones. ASM v5 #29 established they have a local branch in L.A.

And honestly, as heroic a soul as MJ is it Is incredibly unbelievable that she wouldn’t simply alert the authorities even if she had no way of ensuring her own safety.

Am I saying MJ would give her life to save others?

Yes.

Yes that is exactly what I am saying.

Her feats of bravery in part 20 are proof of that as is her respect for Peter’s role as a hero. I’m not saying she wouldn’t take a desperate or calculated risk to save herself (see ASM Ann #19 from part 20). If there are other options beyond noble self-sacrifice, however slim, it’s not immoral to go for those options. But at the end of the day MJ would put the lives of innocent civilians before her own life.

Even her lack of action if she believes Beck has put contingencies in place is highly debatable. It’d depend upon what those contingencies might be. If they would come into action against other people (like the innocent crewmembers) then I could see her not doing anything. But if Mysterio is just going to fly the coop then, as bad as letting him get away might be, it’s better than allowing him to stick around and continue to commit crimes against the real McKnight, the movie studios and potentially civilians. And at least it’d hopefully result in the criminal crewmembers facing justice.

However you slice it MJ has options in this premise.

Leah Williams simply doesn’t address them whatsoever and makes MJ look just awful as a result.

Look, I’m not trying to say Mary Jane should just be the damsel-in-distress, the poor little woman waiting patiently and docile for the big strong men to come and fix her problems for her.

What I am saying is that MJ is basically an unarmed person with limited knowledge of firearms casually hanging around armed and dangerous criminals (in a populated area) and she’s simply presuming they won’t do anything wrong at all. And she’s presuming that if they did she would be more than a match for them.

What I am saying is she knows she has limits. And she knows those limits do not reliably encompass this situation. They at best offer 50/50 odds on MJ ensuring the safety of herself, civilians, their properties, Cage McKnight, his career.

Those are downright irresponsible odds to undertake.

Mary Jane has no right to risk innocent people’s lives like that whatsoever.

And just like the unarmed person in the above analogy she should contact help!

And with that we are finally finished with the dissection of AMJ #1’s premise and can now move onto issue #2.

*Surely that could also convince any regular law enforcement that might doubt her story. It’s entirely possible that Beck could rely upon sexism and/or stereotypes of the ‘prima donna actress’ to delegitimize MJ’s claims to the police.

But her knowledge of the real Cage McKnight would vastly improve her legitimacy.

Not that she’d need to. She has Avengers who’d vouch for her to regular law enforcement and she could just ask them for help anyway.

**This also applies to just about any headcanon you could come up with for anything in the issue. MJ’s actions could be explained away by lingering grief from Flash’s death or a desire to assert her independence rather than be saved by a third party. Doesn’t matter though, not if there is nothing in the issue to support those ideas.

***This isn’t a 1-to-1 comparison I admit but it’s a lot like defences I’ve seen of Star Wars: the Last Jedi, specifically Admiral Holdo’s motivations.

The context is the good guys are being chased down by the bad guys and when questioned Holdo (the leader of the latter) remains tight lipped about there being any kind of escape plan.

Why is she tight lipped?

Well you see it’s because she was concerned about the presence of spies…according to several fan theories.

And that’s the key. It’s just a theory. The film provides literally no explanation whatsoever, not even a hint.

Whether that’s a logical explanation or not, it is not one supported by the text of the film.

The same applies in AMJ #1.

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#Leah Williams #Mysterio #Quentin Beck #Amazing Mary Jane #mjwatsonedit #mary jane watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #MJ Watson #Spider-Man

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thelastspeecher · 5 years

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Superhero/villain AU - Moms, Part II

Here we are, with the second part of meeting moms in the Superhero/villain AU. In this one (which turned out much longer than I planned), Stan meets Ma McGucket. And somehow, doesn’t get physically harmed by her.

Part I

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The doorbell rang. Stan got up from the couch with a groan.

“Can’t even sit down for one second,” he muttered. After a long day at both his day job selling cars and his superhero gig, he wanted nothing more than to relax on the couch with an ice cold beer. But his archnemesis turned one-night-stand turned baby mama was on strict bed rest in his room, so after getting home, he’d had to check in on her and help her with anything she needed. Heavy knocking replaced the doorbell’s ring. “I’m coming!” Stan stomped to the door and ripped it open. “What?” he snarled.

“That’s a mighty rude how-do-ya-do,” said the woman on his doorstep. She crossed her arms. Stan stared at her. Something about her seemed familiar. “Which room is Angie in?”

“She’s-” Stan started. He shook his head. “Hang on, how do you know Angie?”

“I’m her mother,” the woman said, her lips pressed into a thin line. Ice filled Stan’s veins.

“…Sirroco?” he choked out.

“Yes. But call me Mrs. McGucket.”

“Got it. Mrs. McGucket,” Stan mumbled. He swallowed. The woman standing before him didn’t appear intimidating in any way, shape, or form. A pearl necklace hung around her neck, her caramel-colored hair was tied back in a business-like ponytail, and the apron over her polka-dot patterned dress had flour on it. But Stan knew not to take her at face value. A familiar steel determination glinted in Mrs. McGucket’s eyes.

Angie looks just like her. Well, except for the nose. She musta got that from her dad.

“Well?” Mrs. McGucket asked. “Where’s my daughter?”

“She was pretty tired when I checked in on her earlier. She probably won’t want visitors,” Stan said, steadying himself in the doorway.

Not a good idea to let a career villain like Angie’s mom in here. Mrs. McGucket rolled her eyes.

“She knows I’m comin’. I brought some of her fav’rite food. Apparently you and yer brother don’t know how to cook worth a damn. My daughter deserves home-cooked meals.”

“Mrs. McGucket-”

“Young man, either you let me in or I force my way in. Don’t let my visit start so poorly.”

“I…” Stan’s voice vanished at Mrs. McGucket’s stormy expression. He swallowed. ��Come in.” Mrs. McGucket raised an eyebrow at him. “…Ma’am,” he added weakly. He stood to the side. Mrs. McGucket breezed past him, a warm wind following her and rattling the wall decorations.

“Which room?” Mrs. McGucket called.

“First one on the right,” Stan mumbled, half-hoping that she wouldn’t hear if he talked quiet enough. There was no response, aside from a door opening and closing.

I just let a legendary villain into my house and go wherever she wanted. Shit. Stan sprinted after her. He stopped by his bedroom and put his ear against the door.

“So, this Stanley feller is quite the looker,” Mrs. McGucket’s voice said faintly. Stan’s eyes widened.

“Ma, did ya really come all this way to gossip?” Angie asked. Mrs. McGucket chuckled.

“No. But ya can’t blame me fer wantin’ to have an idea of what my grandkids might look like. Which is cute as the dickens, judgin’ from their parents.”

“Ma!” Angie protested.

Holy shit, Angie’s mom thinks I’m cute? What do I do with this information?

“Stanley? What are you doing?” Stan peeled himself off the door and spun around to face his twin brother.

“Nothin’,” he fibbed. Ford fully stepped out of his room.

“Really? Because it looked like you were eavesdropping on Angie.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping on Angie,” Stan scoffed. Ford crossed his arms. “I was eavesdropping on her and her mom.” Ford’s jaw dropped.

“Her mom? Sirocco is here? The Sirocco? The one Mom considered her biggest enemy, as well as ‘the one who got away’?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy-” Ford stared at Stan’s closed door. “If Mom ever finds out about this, she’ll be pissed.”

“I know. But if I didn’t let her in, she would’ve just broken down the door.”

“That is the most likely scenario,” Ford admitted. Stan’s door opened. Stan hurriedly stepped away.

“Don’t eat it all at once, okay?” Mrs. McGucket said to Angie.

“I won’t, Ma.”

“Good. And don’t let these boys have any of it, either. If they try, let me know. I’ll put the fear of God in ‘em,” Mrs. McGucket said firmly. Angie chuckled. “You rest well, junebug.” Mrs. McGucket closed the door.

“Junebug?” Stan queried.

“That’s Angie’s childhood nickname,” Mrs. McGucket said. She glanced at Ford. “Stanford, I presume?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ford said softly.

“Leave us be. I want a word with Stan.” Stan met Ford’s eyes and silently pleaded for him not to leave Stan alone with Mrs. McGucket.

“Actually, ma’am, Stan was going to help me with-” Ford started.

“No, he wasn’t,” Mrs. McGucket said. “Or, if he was, he won’t now.” She handed Ford the tote bag she was holding. “Go put those in the fridge so they don’t spoil.” She grabbed Ford’s wrist. “And don’t you dare eat a single crumb. It’s all fer Angie.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ford squeaked. He shot Stan an apologetic look before scurrying away.

Great.

“Stanley,” Mrs. McGucket said shortly. Stan swallowed. “We need to have us a conversation.” Her ominous tone was exactly what Stan used to imagine when his mom told him about Sirocco.

“Mom, look!” Stan said gleefully. His mother, just returned from hero patrol, looked over at him. Bright green and blue fire danced across his fingers. Ma Pines strode over to him and pinched his cheek.

“Lookit you!” she enthused. Stan grinned. “You’re gonna be quite the hero someday. You’re only twelve, but you’ve got a better hand on your powers than I had on mine when I was sixteen.” Stan’s grin broadened. “But you still need to focus on your control.” Stan’s grin was wiped away.

“What?” he asked. Ma Pines nodded at Stan’s left hand. Flames were beginning to lick down his arm, heading for his sleeve. Stan shook his hands and the fire dissipated.

“Sweetie, if you wanna hold up against someone like Sirocco, you need absolute control,” Ma Pines said. Stan crossed his arms.

“Well, I probably won’t run into someone like her when I’m a hero. Aerokinesis is rare. You told me that.”

“As a hero, you need to be prepared for anything and everything.”

“Hmph.” Stan looked away, still steaming about how quickly Ma Pines moved on from complimenting his new trick. “Whatever.”

“Stanley, I’m just preparing you for the real world,” Ma Pines said. Stan huffed. “Stanley.”

“Seriously, though, what are the odds I’d ever fight an aerokinetic villain? It’s not gonna be a thing I have to worry about. You’re just obsessed with Sirocco,” Stan muttered. He froze, his eyes wide at the realization that he had gone too far.

“Stanley. Look at me.” Stan reluctantly looked at his mom. She didn’t seem nearly as upset as he’d expected. “I’m not obsessed. I’m doing my job.”

“There are plenty of villains who just sorta stopped committing crimes. You never bothered to try to track them down. But Sirocco disappeared when I was like, three. And you’re still trying to find her.”

“Yes. I am.” Ma Pines took a seat on the couch. She patted the cushion next to her. Stan reluctantly joined her. “Sirocco’s not like the Rat Boy or those other Z-listers who dropped out because they couldn’t make it big so it wasn’t worth it to wear a mask anymore. She’s legitimately dangerous.”

“How dangerous?” Stan asked, curious.

“At least fifteen people have disappeared due to her,” Ma Pines said. Stan’s jaw dropped.

“Really?”

“I can’t confirm the exact number and I can’t confirm that she was exclusively to blame,” Ma Pines elaborated. “But I have a gut feeling about it. And what do heroes do with their gut feelings?”

“Trust ‘em.”

“Exactly.” Ma Pines ruffled Stan’s hair. “Sirocco has made a lot of good, hard-working people suffer. She’s made high-profile politicians disappear under mysterious circumstances. And she’s managed to face zero consequences for it. We never caught her long enough to make her spend even five minutes behind bars. We never unmasked her.” Ma Pines’ face twisted with disgust. “Sirocco is the one who got away. Not just from me. From justice. That’s why I’m still trying to find her. So that she can finally deal with the consequences of her actions.”

“She sounds bad.”

“Oh, she is.” Ma Pines sighed. “And to think, I offered her a million times the opportunity to join the good guys. Fight for truth, justice, and the American way. But she never took me up on it.”

“Why would you ask her to become a hero, if she was such a bad villain?”

“Everyone deserves a shot at redemption. Remember that.” Stan nodded silently. “Not to mention, if I’d ever got through to her, she’d have made a damn fine hero.” Ma Pines smiled faintly. “Such a powerful super. I once watched her create a tornado on her own and demolish an entire block of buildings.” Stan’s jaw dropped.

“Wow.”

“Yes.”

“D’ya think I’d be able to take on someone as powerful as Sirocco, when I’m a hero?” Stan asked. Ma Pines smiled at him.

“Of course you can, sweetie.” She pinched his cheek. “As long as you keep practicing. Got it?” Stan nodded. “Good. Now, were there any other new tricks you learned that you wanna show me?”

“Stanley, let’s talk in here,” Mrs. McGucket said, jerking her head in the direction of Ford’s room.

“Uh, that’s Ford’s room.”

“Well, Angie’s in yours. And she explicitly told me to go easy on ya, so I’d hate fer her to hear me do the opposite,” Mrs. McGucket replied. Stan’s veins filled with ice. She sighed heavily. “Don’t worry, I won’t physically harm ya. You are my grandchildren’s father. Now, come along.” She went into Ford’s room. Stan silently followed. “The door?” Stan closed the door. Immediately, Mrs. McGucket pinned Stan against the door, her arm pressed across Stan’s throat.

“Mrs. M-” Stan started. Mrs. McGucket’s eyes hardened.

“I’ll speak first, young man,” she snarled. “You listen, and you listen good. If you so much as think about abandonin’ my daughter after sneakin’ yer way into her life like this, yer grave won’t be found. Same goes for up and leavin’ the babies.”

“I wouldn’t dream of-”

“And if ya try to convince her to leave villainy or tell ya ‘bout her coworkers, well, we won’t quite bury ya, but ya might wish we had. There’s honor among thieves. We don’t turn, we don’t snitch.”

“I-”

“I ain’t finished,” Mrs. McGucket snapped. “The last thing I need to tell ya is that while I promised my daughter I wouldn’t kill ya or make ya disappear until the babies come, I made no such promises ‘bout mutilation or maiming.” Stan could smell smoke. Mrs. McGucket rolled her eyes. “Turn off yer hair, boy.”

Fuck. Stan silently turned off his flaming locks. Mrs. McGucket increased the pressure against Stan’s throat.

“Do ya understand me, Stanley Pines?”

“Yes,” Stan said in a strangled voice.

“Good.” Mrs. McGucket released Stan, then turned around, walked away, and sat at Ford’s desk. She nodded at Ford’s bed. “Sit.”

“Look, I-”

“Did I say you could speak?” Mrs. McGucket asked sharply. Stan closed his mouth with a snap and did as he was told. Mrs. McGucket looked over at the door. She let out a soft chuckle. “You left a mark in the wood, there. Pyros like yourself should be more careful. Practice control.”

“No shit,” Stan retorted. “My mom’s been telling me that for years.” His eyes widened.

I was just snippy with a career villain who regularly beat up Mom. Dammit, her laugh sounded just like Angie’s. It threw me off. Mrs. McGucket raised an eyebrow.

“Good.” Stan blinked.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Even after I threatened ya and got ya to cave to me, ya still have some fight in ya.”

“You- you’re happy I was rude to you?”

“Yes and no.” Mrs. McGucket daintily crossed her legs. “I ain’t pleased to be talked back to. But I’m pleased to know ya have the capacity to talk back after bein’ told off. If you and Angie want to be effective co-parents, that’s necessary.” Mrs. McGucket sighed softly. “You’ve prob’ly picked up by now that my daughter’s a bit of a steamroller.”

“Yeah.”

“She always has been.” Mrs. McGucket shook her head. “Stubborn as a mule, that girl. Honestly, she got it from me. Her father’s much more willin’ to compromise than I am.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just as stubborn,” Stan said, grinning. Mrs. McGucket nodded.

“I’m glad to hear that. ‘Cause with Angie, only folks as stubborn as her can get her to back down on somethin’. Can be a halfway decent team with her. And if the two of ya want to be good parents, ya need to be a good team.” Mrs. McGucket waved a hand airily. “Anyone can be good parents. Don’t matter if yer married, dating, friends, or even just acquaintances. What defines good parents is the ability to be a good team.”

“You’re not- you don’t care that we aren’t married? Or even dating?” Stan asked, surprised.

“In a sense, I do. I’d much prefer my grandkids to have been created out of love, not lust. I’d also like my grandkids to not be bastards. But I recognize the most important thing here. That those kids get raised right. And the only way to raise those kids is if the folks who raise ‘em work as a team. You realize what that means, right?”

“Uh…” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not much of a team…player. I mean, I did boxing in high school, not baseball.”

“Teamwork don’t just mean team sports,” Mrs. McGucket said impatiently. “It means workin’ together. Counteractin’ weaknesses with strengths. Compromising. Fer example, religion.” Stan frowned at her. “That’ll be one regard in which ya need to compromise. We’re Catholic, and we feel very strongly about that. But it wouldn’t be right to deny yer kids half of their heritage. So whether yer Episcopalian, Baptist, Lutheran-”

“Jewish,” Stan mumbled. Mrs. McGucket stopped, her eyes wide.

“Yer Jewish?”

“I don’t really practice, but, uh, yeah.”

“Oh. Goodness.” Mrs. McGucket covered her eyes with one hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Huh?”

“It didn’t even occur to me that you wouldn’t be Christian. That was wrong of me. I need to be more open-minded.”

“Huh?” Stan repeated. Mrs. McGucket removed her hand. She met his gaze with a plaintive look.

“I shouldn’t have assumed you were Christian. I apologize fer that.”

“…Oh. It’s- it’s nothing. Most people think- and like I said, I don’t really practice, so-”

“Still.” Mrs. McGucket drummed her fingers on Ford’s desk. “I’ll have to learn how to cook kosher.”

“Huh?”

“Is that the only thing you can say, boy?” Mrs. McGucket snapped. Her tone was agitated, but not vicious. “I was just sayin’ the kids need to be exposed to both sides of their heritage. If they’re half-Jewish, that means abidin’ by Jewish law. So if I want to make things fer my grandkids – which I do – I need to make sure it’s kosher.”

“It’s not-” Stan cut himself off.

Stop arguing. She said she might maim you five minutes ago and now she’s being nice. Don’t make her go back to threats.

“Thank you,” Stan said quietly.

“No need to thank me. It’s common decency to respect others’ heritage and religion,” Mrs. McGucket said briskly. She pointed at Stan. “This is the exact thing ya need to be stronger ‘bout. Don’t cave just ‘cause it ain’t important to you. It’s important to Angie. That means it’s somethin’ you should also consider important. Anything important to either of ya is worth havin’ a conversation over. You don’t want to decide later on that what you thought wasn’t important to you actually is.”

“I…” Stan trailed off.

I thought I didn’t care about the religion thing, but now that I think about it, I kinda like the idea of taking the kids to temple. Throwing them a bar mitzvah. Celebrating Hanukkah with them. A faint smile played around Stan’s mouth.

“See? You do care. You just didn’t realize,” Mrs. McGucket said. She got up. Stan stood as well.

“Are you leaving?” he asked.

“I have work to do back home.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

“I know the way.” Mrs. McGucket strode to the door and opened it, revealing Ford standing nervously in the hallway. “Hello, Stanford.”

“Mrs. McGucket,” Ford mumbled. Mrs. McGucket looked back at Stan.

“This won’t be the last conversation I have with you. You and Angie both have a lot to learn ‘bout what it takes to be good parents.”

“I think we can figure it out on our own,” Stan said. Mrs. McGucket grinned crookedly.

That’s Angie’s smile. I wonder if either of the kids will get that little shit-eating grin.

“That confidence is misplaced. But it’s a good color on you, Stanley.” She left, a warm breeze following her. “Goodbye, junebug!” she called as she walked away. There was a muffled goodbye from Stan’s room. Ford looked at Stan.

“You’re not dead,” he remarked. Stan raised an eyebrow.

“Wow, how’d you guess?”

“Smartass,” Ford muttered. He glanced at his door briefly, then did a double-take. “Stanley, what did you do to my door?”

#this turned out SO LONG lkasjdfnjasdfasd #I was struggling figuring out where to take it #Superhero/villain AU #Stangie #Ma McGucket #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #ficlet #my writing #speecher speaks

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thebigpapilio · 5 years

Text

An Eminent Dethroning: A Persona 5/Persona Q2 Fic!

SPOILERS FOR PERSONA 5 & PERSONA Q2: NEW CINEMA LABYRINTH!

My inspiration was a post from @write-it-motherfuckers. Give me a bit to find it!

AO3 Link

Featured Ships: Ann x Shiho, later Ann x Shiho x Ryuji,

Minor Ships: Makoto x Haru, Yusuke x Futaba

"The greatest heroes are those who do their duty in the daily grind of domestic affairs whilst the world whirls as a maddening dreidel. " -Florence Nightingale

________________________________________________________________

The trouble had started when Ann’s best friend had been caught up in a battle between Kamoshidaman, his sidekick Inazuma, and the villain Akuyaku. She was an innocent bystander, and a blow from the “hero” sent the criminal flying right into Shiho from outside the building. Ann’s best friend was sent through the window with the criminal, and while both of them landed on a nearby building, the far less durable girl barely survived.

Weeks passed, and Ann did not learn of any sign of Kamoshidaman apologizing. It seemed like life went on as usual, as if Shiho’s hospitalization didn’t matter anymore.

Sure, Shiho had eventually returned to consciousness about half a month ago, but the scars of the event would stay for the rest of her life.

Ann felt powerless every time she stared at Shiho or the so-called hero of Kamo City. She wanted to confront Kamoshidaman, but what was anyone supposed to do against the superhuman superstar?

She knew that if she worked upfront against Kamoshidaman he would shut her down easily; all he had to do was frame her as a villain and in less than a week, she would be driven out of the city at best.

That was when Carmen came to her. Her fury had been sensed by the powerful spirit, and she had been henceforth blessed with the ability to turn into a superpowered form of her own - not in the same way that Kamoshida did.

With the dancer spirit on her side, she now had the power to do something.

________________________________________________________________

Kamoshida had heard about a bank robbery ongoing a while away from where he was. Transforming into his alter ego, he flew off into the night in preparation for a brawl.

When he got there, though, he found the police taking the already defeated criminals into custody.

Flying down, he asked the officers how they had stopped the criminal scum before he even got there. Nobody could give him a good answer, but they all agreed that it had started with a lean red figure bursting into the bank in the middle of a stand-down between the officers and the offenders. Like a firecracker whizzing through the air, all the would-be robbers suddenly had their guns knocked out of their hands, followed by attacks that knocked them unconscious. Other than that, no one could give him good enough details, and the security feeds had been taken out by the robbers earlier, making them obsolete.

After ensuring everything was settled, a disgruntled Kamoshidaman left back for his house. A few days later, he and his sidekick Inazuma were battling a villainess called Lilen, a woman with the power to grow plants anywhere. It had culminated when after Inazuma had been swatted away from the battle and knocked unconscious, Kamoshida had been snatched and held by all four limbs by her monstrous “Plutonian Death Trap,” most likely with intentions of ripping him apart limb by limb. Lilen’s command to do so, however, was interrupted by the giant plant releasing an ear-shattering squeal in pain as some of its other leafy appendages had suddenly been caught ablaze. Confused as he was, Kamoshidaman took the opportunity and knocked out Lilen while she tried to put out the flames. This time, though, Kamoshidaman noticed something left at the remains of the fallen plant.

Upon further inspection, it appeared to be a card. It stated:

“To Kamoshidaman, the so-called protector of Kamo City,

I know the evils you have committed. You hold this place under your thumb, and if anyone so much as slightly displeases you , they are branded evil by you, and the rest of Kamo City follows suit like lemmings off a cliff.

I will not fight you, you monster. Instead, I will steal all that you truly desire from your heroic actions – your glory and your power.

Yours truly,

Panther & Carmen”

Kamoshidaman took it to the police, in the hopes they might track the writer down. Oddly enough, the police saw no problem with it, for when it was returned to Kamoshidaman, not only was the signature missing but also the text had changed entirely into words of adoration and gratitude from a fan called Tomo P.

Infuriated, Kamoshidaman took his frustration out on “Inazuma” that night. That punk was the only one who knew his identity, and after being beaten down despite the electrokinetic powers he’d mysteriously acquired, the little hooligan had been given an option; join him against evil at his beck and call, or have him and his family driven out of the city… if not worse .

Storming off, Kamoshida did not think that the abuse would be the last straw for Ryuji. He had heard about the card from the perverted powerhouse, so he decided that the mysterious saviors and this Tomo P. from the last two moments of crime needed to be looked into.

________________________________________________________________

Time passed, as it always does, but now, results were slowly starting to show up. As soon as the story of Panther and Carmen had reached the public, Kamoshidaman began to fade into obscurity.

The older and more experienced superhero always seemed to be too slow to get to minor battles, and for major villains and villainesses it was presumed that if Panther showed up, it was only to save Kamoshidaman at the last moment. The protector of Kamo City would have been spending more time looking for the mysterious person, but Inazuma had offered to do all the research in exchange for less actual fighting.

Other than that, he was considering something to himself. Once I’ve found and beaten Panther and her ally senseless, he would ponder, should I give them a second chance like I’ve graciously done for that brat or just brand them villains and kick them out of my place ? After all, this was his city - he and only he was supposed to have true power and authority, and no one was going to challenge that!

Ryuji Sakamoto, despite his intense hatred of the leverage-holding loser, really was doing some looking for the elusive figure. However, he had been keeping info from his barbaric boss; the giant-jawed jerk thought he was a lot further away from the truth then he actually was.

In fact, he was pretty sure he at least had a theory to the answer. Soon, he was going to go and find out for himself.

By now, Ann had long graduated high school, and would soon be a freshman in college. Shiho had fully healed from the incident, and knew about her acts as Panther. Her best friend kept it secret, but the civilian had asked her to ensure that she would kill none of the bad guys during her “extracurricular activities.”

Shiho had not needed to ask Ann the question - such was the plan, anyway - but she assured Shiho that would happen. Sadly, there were those public executions that Kamoshidaman held, but those were only for the people he managed to catch, and considering that crime rates dropped like a blimp filled with iron since Panther showed up, the executions almost never happened. Things were slowly looking up.

But because the world takes a pleasure sicker and more twisted than Kamoshidaman himself in hurting others, it was about then when Inazuma showed up at her apartment.

She had been sitting on the rooftops as Panther when he arrived. It was clear he had been looking for something, but she didn’t know if the villain’s sidekick was looking for her . Honestly, he always looked uncomfortable when no one else was looking, he would always leave the scene as quickly as he could, and she was quite sure that not all the marks she saw him with were from superpowered evildoers. With all the famous superheroes in Kamo City, attackers didn’t show up often enough for Inazuma to get as many scars and whatnot as he had.

If someone were to fashion the energy from such a staredown into a blade, chances are it could cleave Kamoshidaman in two.

“... I’m guessing you’re Panther?” Kamoshidaman’s electrokinetic colleague asked her.

She didn’t respond, but that was all Inazuma needed to know.

“Listen,” he asked, “I’ll keep this secret-”

“But what?” Panther spoke, breaking her silence and releasing the pent-up fury she had held for… what now, five years? “I have to stop taking that jerk’s spotlight? I have to idolize him no matter what he does?”

Raising his arms in mock surrender, the sidekick nervously replied, “Cool it, Catgirl! I don’t have any blackmail-based intentions!”

At Panther’s shocked silence, Inazuma continued. “If anything, I want your help in something instead.”

________________________________________________________________

After Inazuma explained the abuse and blackmail Kamoshidaman held over him, and Ann explained the story of Shiho’s hospitalization and forward, the two had jokingly reintroduced themselves. As it turned out, Ann and Inazuma - whom she now knew as Ryuji Sakamoto - went to the same university. Sure, Ryuji was on the path to being a physical therapist - where was this guy about five years ago, Ann would lament - and she was looking towards the path of acting, but they were still close enough to see each other often.

One of the first things Ann did was introduce Ryuji to Shiho and explain everything. It was better now than for the more “normal” one of the three to discover this suddenly close relationship and grow suspicious on her own. Thankfully, Shiho agreed to keep his secret too - but for whatever reason, there was teasing about her liking him.

The whole world seemed to think the same thing about their heroic forms. One of the first things Ryuji did upon settling into his work with Ann was to get the one who gave him his power - a pirate spirit called Captain Kidd - to give him a new look when he fought with Panther so Kamoshidaman couldn't figure out he was betraying him.

He had renamed himself Skull in this form, and anyone who asked him why would hear that he and his feline-themed counterpart planned to “get this city to stop running around like headless idiots.”

Skull was the one who made public appearances, but Panther still kept herself hidden. There was still plenty of clamor about the two, and what was even more awkward for them was that many people for whatever reason shipped them.

Some people had written fanfics about the duo. Most of them featured something called a “Love Square,” featuring made-up versions of their civilian identities. Ryuji was usually portrayed as either a try-hard kid trying to be a thug or a wealthy and debonair yet unhappily restrained young man, while Ann was either portrayed as the type who was completely “normal” outwardly but incredibly odd as Panther or the class clown who turned into an incredibly aloof superheroine in secret. No fanfic was even close to the truth. Shiho had written a fic once that was quite inaccurate but still closer than anything she had read. She didn’t post it on any websites, of course, but she did safely send it to Ryuji and Ann in the hopes of teasing them.

Kamoshidaman, through all of the popularity given to the supposed trio of upstarts, was practically old news, and he was livid about it. As the amount of attention the public paid to Panther slowly grew, his fury did the same, and while it took a boost with the appearance of Skull, it was only on the day that in a passing discussion he overheard someone forget who Kamoshidaman was - even though they remembered a second later - that he lost the last of his patience for the hidden heroine.

________________________________________________________________

The tension between the heroes and the “hero” peaked almost 6.5 years after Panther beat Kamoshidaman to that bank, and at some point, she had obtained a nasty crush on her filter-less friend and partner Skull. She and Shiho had been dating for about 3-4 months after Shiho’s release from the hospital, and many a time they had talked about adding the “boneheaded” boy to their relationship. The agreement that they would both be okay with it was unanimous, but they both had yet to ask him as of then.

It seemed as if the universe itself was waiting on them to start dating, and to push them along, it sent them other spirit-powered heroes that would also aid them in battle on occasion.

They had made a group from all the heroes in their team, although the others were seldom brought in unless needed for backup and/or against specific villains. Consisting of the artistic yet socially awkward Fox, the antihero-turned-villain-turned-fully-hero Crow, the slowly less antisocial tech expert Oracle (who was most commonly asked for due to her ability with both technology and battle), and the deadly duo of the brutal yet kind Queen & the cordial yet intimidating Noir (the two of which had started dating after meeting up one battle), the heroes nicknamed the Spirit Guardians were feared and loved by Kamo City depending on who you would be to them.

One fateful day, it was both Kamoshidaman and not Kamoshidaman who took action. He knew that he no longer had the power to brand the Spirit Guardians as villains and let the city do the work for him, so he decided to take more dramatic measures.

Dākumasuku K immediately threw Kamo City into panic, the reportedly-possessed superhero demanding a battle between both him and the duo of Panther and Carmen, claiming only those two could save him by breaking the dark mask he wore. A date was set, and if they would not show up and fight him in person, he would destroy something or someone every day they didn’t appear.

Inazuma had overheard this plan from him, and Skull sent it to the woman in charge. Sadly, it was only Panther and Skull in town, as the other Spirit Guardians either lived in other areas and had been nearby during their appearances or would not be able to make it without arousing suspicion as to their identities. They had been planning this final attack on not only Kamoshidaman but also his reputation almost since their partnership began, and now they could use it!

Kamoshidaman had hurt many people, and there were many who had plenty of negative things to say about him but did not on fear of ostracism, banishment, execution, or some combination of the three. Silently, they went around and collected those people’s stories, stating that when the information was broadcasted it would be unclear who each story was from.

________________________________________________________________

Panther really hated Kamoshidaman, but she hated the idea of people getting hurt even more, so for the first time known to Kamo City, she showed up in broad daylight on her lonesome. Dākumasuku K had been waiting for her, and when asked where the person known as Carmen was, she claimed that Carmen was nonexistent, having merely been a red herring of sorts. Dākumasuku K growled, and the battle began.

When the smoke cleared, things darkened as a well-weakened Dākumasuku K stood over the beaten superheroine, with his mask broken but still on.

“You’re supposed to be freed!” Panther barely cried out, gasping and gaping at the supervillain.

Leaning in, Kamoshidaman whispered to her, “I was free to do as I pleased, you *****. You, however, are about to lose your freedom for attempting to shackle my justice.”

At her angered scowl, Kamoshidaman laughed to himself. Turning away from the platinum blonde, he snarked, “Never meet your heroes, kid. Now stay there while I-”

“It’s funny how you talked about meeting heroes…”

Kamoshidaman whipped around to stare at the superheroine, who was slowly getting up from the ground.

“All the superpowered people in this city that I know of are either me, the Spirit Guardians, or supervillains. You aren’t me, and you sure as **** aren’t joining the team, so by process of elimination…”

“Bold words for someone not entirely off the ground, you stupid girl.” Kamoshidaman grated, his voice like a rubber band stretched to its limits, as if Panther pushing him any further would send him rocketing away.

Knowing she had him angry, the feline-themed superheroine smirked. “Bolder words for someone who’s about to be floored .”

Now that she was standing - albeit barely - she suddenly let out a shrill whistle, and almost right after, every big screen and TV in the city shut off for a few seconds. When they returned, a singular video played on all of them.

It was an elegant reading by a robotic voice, detailing each and every one of the offenses that all of the interviewees had given to the true heroes. As promised, not one of the victims were named or recorded - their words had been written down instead, so Kamoshidaman wouldn’t know who to track down, as all the victims picked out were all innocent bystanders that the anti-villain had ignored while trampling on his climb to fame and power. Kamoshidaman simultaneously turned white as an albino cat and red as a ladybug as he watched his cruel actions be exposed to the entirety of Kamo City.

Even if people were unsure of whom to trust then, the last reading and only named victim would still have set Kamo City into an outrage.

Inazuma , who had been unseen since the last fight against Crow during his villainous days as The Prince, was shown at the end, looking like a husk of what the world had seen the brash but quiet sidekick to be. He revealed all the pain Kamoshida had brought upon him, and at the end of his statements, he began with some information that closed the casket on not only any possible remains of Kamoshidaman’s respect but those of his civilian identity.

“You’re a special kind of ******, you know? Most evildoers have the decency to appear as good people outside of the mask. You were abusive to me as a ‘hero’ and as my former sports teacher. People of Kamo City, if you want to take your anger out on this guy, you’ll find him at…”

Inazuma proceeded to blab the information of the high school where the one named Kamoshida (who other than Inazuma had never been figured out despite both of his names being horrifyingly similar) worked and any other way to reach him, Inazuma ended the video with the nastiest scowl anyone had seen and a goodbye. You could tell he wanted to give Kamoshida the middle finger and say certain words following that goodbye, but Panther had decided that it would not be a good idea to show that stuff on live TV broadcasted to the whole city.

As it turned out, Kamoshidaman was literally empowered by the people. The more that trusted him, the more that bowed to his power and authority, the more powerful he would be. Even as Kamoshida, he’d been abusing some of his students and offering rewards for others in exchange for… favors . Ugh.

That was in the past, thankfully; as of the aftermath, the vexing villain was barely stronger than his normal self, and although he tried to escape after the video ended, it turned out Skull and the other heroes had been waiting for him, all of them but Oracle (who had no weapon) complete with painful surprises. Despite many of the public’s opinion that Kamoshida should be publicly executed like he had done to some decent people, Kamo City and its true heroes refused, pointing out that doing that was stooping to the worst of Kamoshida’s levels. Instead, they decided to give him a choice on his fate based on his “nicer punishments.”

Option 1 was simple – he could stay in the city, but he would be rotting in their prisons for the rest of his days, forced to move prisons every few years in order to keep him from plotting with others. Option 2 was more complicated – he would leave the city and never come back, and if he tried to begin superhero work once more somewhere else, no matter how well he meant, he would be tracked, struck down, dragged back to Kamo City (who despite the surprising lack of link to its former “protector” was in dire need of a new name) and would be forced into taking Option 1 from there.

He chose Option 2 – he still believed he had done no wrong, but he was smart enough to not go against those who were once his power source. Kamoshida was kicked out of the city, and other than his worst fans - who either left as well or became quickly evicted supervillains - that was the last anyone wanted to see of him. Every other city they could access was warned about him, and those cities forwarded the information until the rest of the world knew not to trust Kamoshidaman.

________________________________________________________________

A few nights after Kamoshida’s banishment, Ann and Shiho confessed to Ryuji, and the morning after the three woke up as a happy triad.

Soon after, they and the other Spirit Guardians - who revealed themselves to each other soon after the initial victory – pooled their money with the cash reward for their work and bought a big house for their leisure.

Queen and Noir, who were revealed as two girls named Makoto and Haru (and the only ones who knew another Spirit Guardian’s identity other than Ann & Ryuji, who had however intentionally initiated the awakening of the others’ powers and therefore knew everyone’s identities from the start) married about 1.75 years later, and not too long after that they were finalizing adoption papers. The twin brothers named Akira & Ren were so similar in both personality and looks you could easily get which was which wrong all day if they were clothed the same.

Fox and Oracle – who were revealed to be named Yusuke and Futaba - started dating after even more dancing than Ann and Shiho had done with Ryuji, and the only ones who did not know both of them planned to propose soon were each other.

Crow, who they learned had the name of Goro, was aro ace, but unless he trusted you with the truth, it was believed he had a fake relationship with two girls called Caroline & Justine. In the meantime, he spent his days rehabilitating ex-criminals with an old friend who apparently responded to the name Morgana.

After the Spirit Guardians’ hiatus grew long enough, Kamoshidaman eventually grew stupid enough to try pretending to be a hero again. By then, however, he was also much too old and far weaker than he was to have much success; coupled with the fact that everyone knew better than to trust him, the now-rabbit themed “superhero” King Hare was taken down as soon as folks figured out it was him. With the help of some of the Spirit Guardians, three new heroes calling themselves the Phantom Hearts – two near-lookalike young gents called Joker & Wildcard and their sneaky scout Mona – ensured that Kamoshidaman finally made #1.

Sadly for him, that #1 was the number of the path he now takes. At last, Kamoshida finally achieved absolute justice.

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gold-from-straw · 6 years

Text

Reassembled - AT LAST!

Hey there! Remember when it was A Thing to write all the Avengers living happily together in Stark Tower? Well, I love to live in the past! In fact, anything beyond Avengers is completely ignored in this fic that’s been neglected for 9 whole months, and has finally resolved itself in my mind! I’m hoping to finish the final chapters in the next couple of weeks - and from then on, no more uploading fics unless I’ve got at least a first draft! I hope you’ll enjoy - a lot of people probably haven’t come across it before, so here’s the link to the first part, and I hope it allows you to pretend (as I regularly do) that Ultron, Civil War, and Infinity War never happen ;) For those who do know this fic, here’s the chapter below, or on AO3!

Natasha poured her second cup of coffee and added a shot of hazelnut to it before leaning back against the counter, wrapping her fingers around the porcelain. It had been a quiet week. They’d even managed to catch up on their paperwork, and Steve was talking about taking some time to travel around the country on his vintage bike.

The door hushed open and Tony walked in wearing plaid pyjama bottoms and an Iron Maiden t-shirt. Natasha smirked at his bed head. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Hey,” he yawned, and poked the coffee machine.

Natasha watched him smile at the black liquid, then smile at the sugar bowl, and at the pot of blueberry yoghurt he pulled out of the fridge. “Ha!” she said, and poked gleefully at the hickey on his collarbone. “You guys had sex.”

Tony blushed. Tony freaking Stark’s Italian complexion went tomato red to the roots of his hair and Natasha almost squealed, it was the cutest damn thing. “What?” he stuttered. “Shut up.”

“You’re blushing though!”

“I am not.”

“Oh my god, Tony, you absolutely are.” She nudged him. “I’m happy for you, that’s all. So you got your shit together and talked, huh?”

He snorted. “Oh, we already did that ages ago. But... we’ve been taking it slow, you know. It’s not like... there’s no rush. I would have been fine with...” He trailed off, and she hadn’t thought it was possible for him to get redder but he did, ducking his head to drink his coffee.

“You’re so gone for him, aren’t you?”

He bit his lip. Natasha couldn’t bear it, she pulled him into a tight, one-armed hug. “That’s so fucking adorable, Tony.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“I’m not kidding. You guys deserve to be happy.” She let him go and sipped her coffee again. “So... do you love him?”

His breath rushed out of him, and she could read the truth from the little smile he was trying to hide under his beard. He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Uh...”

“You do,” she said, her voice much softer. “You’re allowed to, you know.”

He looked up at her, all that vulnerability he usually hid under sarcasm and a smart mouth suddenly bare for her, and she felt a weight of responsibility settle warm in her chest. It was her job to winkle this sort of stuff out of the most powerful men in the world, and Tony had been no exception. For him now to offer it up to her... she knew what a huge gesture of trust this was. She squeezed his arm. “I’m so happy for you. Have you told him?”

The red flared across his cheekbones again and he nodded down into his coffee. “A few days ago. She... she said it back too.” His shoulders were rounded, and when he looked up at her she saw the fear that mixed with the happiness. She wasn’t sure what it was, exactly. Fear he didn’t deserve it, fear he wasn’t good enough, fear that it would end. When Tony let himself love someone, it was a forever thing. She could tell he still adored Pepper, and he’d worshiped Rhodes consistently since his teenage years. Natasha got the impression that Loki was exactly the same.

The door slipped open again, and Loki himself joined them. Natasha watched Tony’s expression soften just to look at his boyfriend, how he leaned slightly towards him like a plant when he brushed his fingers up Tony’s arm and kissed his cheek. “Good morning, Natasha.”

She didn’t have a chance to reply. The sky suddenly darkened, and the tower trembled under the force of something, a great rumbling sound vibrating through their feet. “Woah, what the hell’s going on, JARV?” Tony yelled.

“We seem to have an anomalous atmospheric disturbance directly above the tower, sir,” JARVIS replied, voice raised but unflappable. “The data I’m collecting doesn’t match... ah, excuse me, no. There have been incidences before, in New Mexico.”

“The Bifrost.” Loki’s voice was soft, almost trembling. Natasha’s gaze snapped to him, narrowed. He would usually have shifted into his armour at the first sign of trouble, but now he stood, his eyes unfocused, still in his soft sleep clothes. As she watched, he took a deep breath and looked up at her, hiding his haunted expression under a cold mask, and shifted into an elaborate green and black armour, one she hadn’t seen before.

Feet thundered up the stairs, and Thor and Steve burst into the room, closely followed by the others. “Loki!” Thor shouted. His eyes were terrified, and he stopped short to see his brother dressed like that. “No, Loki, you cannot - we must flee. Steve has offered to stall them, we must go, now.”

“I will not—“

“No, Lokes, if they’re coming for you, go. We’ll be able to stop them here long enough for you guys to get to safety.”

“I will not leave you,” he said, turning a furious gaze on Tony. “I will never leave you, Tony, you cannot believe I would.”

“I need you to!” Tony said, gripping him above the elbows. “I need you to be safe, you hear?”

“And do I not need the same thing? I will not have you fight without me there to protect you.”

“Shit, let’s all run,” Clint said, running his hands through his hair. “I mean, if Norse Gods are planning on running, I’m up for the good old strategic retreat.”

“No,” said Loki, straightening his back and looking around at all of them. “To run is to be pursued, and that brings even more danger to your door. It would also leave your world less protected, and none of us will allow that. No.” He looked to Thor. “Brother, we stand.”

Thor clasped Loki’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, squeezing his eyes shut. “Aye, Brother. Then we stand together. To the roof.”

***

The team marched to the roof as the storm reached its peak, striking the tower and testing its foundations. Tony grumbled into his faceplate as the suit formed around him.

When the doors opened onto the helipad, Natasha kept her face perfectly controlled, only allowing the micro expressions she wanted to project to cross her lips and the skin around her eyes. A great circle of runes was burned into the concrete, matching the ones she’d seen from the files on the New Mexico event. In the centre of the runes stood a group of guards - some of whom she also recognised from the files - and a silver-haired man with an eyepatch and a great golden spear.

“Thor,” he said, and his voice, while not raised, carried clearly across the helipad. The authority in it almost physically bent her knees. She softened them to absorb the pressure, and stopped beside Clint in an at-ease stance.

Steve walked forward to meet him. “King Odin, I presume?”

Odin glanced at him with the most genteel of sneers, and looked straight past him. “Thor, my son, what is the meaning of this? You had orders to return with your brother and the Tesseract to Asgard as soon as the skirmish had ended, and yet we find you dallying with the mortals?”

“Father, we could not use the tesseract,” said Thor, and Natasha could almost see the sweat dripping off his temples. He was the world’s worst liar, but right now it looked like he was the only one with any chance. “The mortals, and the organisation SHIELD have need of it.”

Odin scoffed. “A goat has no need of a grimoire. Your time here has clearly softened you. Perhaps banishment to Muspelheim would have been a better choice in the first place.”

“Your dad’s charming,” said Tony, loudly enough for the Asgardians to hear. “I’ll cancel the tea party, don’t suppose he’d want to be entertained by goats.”

Thor looked embarrassed, glancing around at the other Avengers. “Father, the mortals have come so far since we commonly travelled to Midgard. Will you not meet with their leaders?”

“I have no interest in discussions, Thor,” he snapped. “I have come to bring the war criminal Loki to justice now that the Bifrost has been returned to its full function. Or do you wish to see him pardoned of all his crimes just because he was your playmate as a child?”

Thor’s jaw dropped. “He was no mere playmate,” he said, incredulous. “He is my brother, and always has been.”

“He is the child of a monster!” Odin roared. “Had I not taken him, he would have died, frozen on a rock. And he chooses to repay me by embarrassing Asgard in every way?” He shook his head. “It is enough. Time to end this foolish charade. It was an experiment that has failed, and must be put to rest.”

Natasha spared a quick glance for Loki, whose fingers were trembling, almost imperceptibly. He still stood as a statue, staring at his father impassively. He’d be fine, she thought, glancing at the others. It was the others who might be a problem, leaping to his defence when he could easily compartmentalise if left alone.

“Hey, if you don’t want the experiment, we’ll keep him,” Tony said, mock casually. “One man’s trash is another’s treasure and all.” Natasha suppressed a twitch of a smile. At least Tony was dealing with it better than could be expected.

Odin actually turned to look at him. “You would like to ‘keep him’, mortal? Like a pet?” He snorted and glanced at Loki. “An intractable, oversensitive cat. Perhaps that would be appropriate, but he has crimes for which to answer.”

“What crimes he committed on Earth have been officially pardoned, your highness,” said Phil, consulting his StarkPad. Natasha knew he would have Fury on speakerphone, silent but preparing for everything in real time. “We appreciate you sending Thor to assist us, we couldn’t have broken the mind control without him, and we wouldn’t have been able to stop the invasion without Loki and Thor’s help.”

“And reparations have been made to Jotunheim - Loki has been pardoned by the new king himself,” Thor added quickly.

“Crimes against Midgard and Jotunheim are nothing but crimes against a herd of beasts. I refer to those committed when he occupied the throne of Asgard. Attempted fratricide, murder, destruction of the Bifrost and treason.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” yelled Darcy from the back of the group, and Natasha almost groaned. She had less subtlety than even Tony, and wasn’t surrounded by a gold titanium alloy when baiting space gods. “Isn’t Asgard, like, an absolute monarchy? And when Loki did all those things, he was the rightful king, wasn’t he - so everything he did was within the law? Not that that’s a great system, man, I mean talk about being open to abuse.”

Odin smiled at Loki, and that was more terrifying than all his sneering and insults. “Ah, but you knew differently, did you not, boy? A Frost Giant can never sit on the throne of Asgard.” Loki’s face paled, his fingers spasming into fists, and Natasha tensed her muscles, ready to leap into action. “You are not the son of Odin. Therefore your ascension to the throne was unlawful.”

“And what of matrilineal inheritance?”

The Avengers and Asgardians all turned as one to the new voice. Even the Asgardian guards startled to see the woman in a golden dress who’d materialised among them, brushing an elegant cowl back from her hair. “Mother!” cried Thor. She smiled at him, but turned her sharp gaze to Odin.

“What are you doing here, Frigga?” he asked, and Natasha made a mental note of how he reined his authority in to speak to her. This woman had a lot of power.

“I have come to ensure my son receives justice,” she said, and walked straight to Loki, stopping and turning in front of him as if she was planning on shielding him with her own body.

“He is no more your son than mine,” Odin scoffed. “I took him from the battlefield and—“

“And I took him into my heart,” she said coldly. “As an adoptive parent is wont to do.”

“That means nothing to the ascension of the throne. Loki took Gungnir unlawfully and used the power to commit unforgivable crimes upon our family and reputation.”

"There was nothing unlawful about it, husband,” she said with a pleasant smile. “An adoption by blood and magic is as tight a bond as that of birth.”

Odin froze almost imperceptibly for a second. He narrowed his eyes at her. “The adoption was never formalised.”

“Perhaps not by you.”

There was silence, broken only by the distant sounds of New York, and the whistling of the wind around them. Natasha didn’t even dare to move to shift a strand of hair out of her face.

“What have you done, Frigga?”

“What needed to be done,” she said just as softly. “For many years I tried to deny the evidence of my own eyes, hoping that you would love Loki just as dearly as I did. But when it became clear that not only did you have no true feeling for him, but that you never intended on finalising his lineage, I knew I would have to do so myself. Loki was indeed third in line to the throne, but only on his mother’s side. All that he did as king of Asgard was lawful, for he was, at the time, the law.”

The silence fell once more, and Natasha shifted this time, concerned at the pure fury pouring off Odin in waves. Frigga held her hand out to Tony. “Anthony Stark, would you grant us the use of a room so that my husband and I may discuss the politics of this situation? Your hospitality has been much appreciated thus far, and the continuation will be considered a great favour to me.”

“Uh… sure… your majesty? If you’d all come this way?” Natasha had never heard Tony sound so flustered, but then, meeting the parents this way wasn’t exactly ideal. Frigga inclined her head to him and turned her back on Odin, walking into the tower with her head held high. Odin, with just a flicker of tension around his good eye and a slight tightening of his fist on the spear, followed.

“You,” he said to four of the guards. “Remain with the mortals, the prince, and the accused. The rest of you, with me.”

Natasha caught Steve’s eye, returning his slight eyebrow raise. This was going to be interesting.

#FrostIron #my writing #Reassembled #Unconditional #odin's a+ parenting #thor is a good bro #Loki/Tony #natasha romanoff

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isolationshepherd-blog · 7 years

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August 10th 2148

It’s late for making a diary entry; past midnight and I haven’t slept for over twenty-four hours. I wanted to get this down while it’s still fresh in my mind, though. It’s a miracle I’m even here to update the diary. There have been a few times over the last few hours when I thought the end had come. I promised myself when I started writing the diary again that I would be honest within its pages because otherwise what is the point? If I can’t tell the truth in these writings then they have no meaning or purpose. So I’m going to write the events down as best I can remember, even though some parts of the tale are painful to recall. I think that a page has been turned today in more ways than one and maybe a different future beckons.

I’ve been investigating Nygel for six months, trying to catch her in the act of committing any number of crimes of which I know she is guilty but have so far been unable to prove. Last week Abby told the Council that various medical supplies had been going missing for a couple of weeks and she’d finally had chance to take an inventory. She showed her report to the Council and the scale of the theft was shocking. Equipment and medications vital to the wellbeing of the Ark citizens were being pilfered on a large scale. I was surprised Abby hadn’t noticed this sooner but she has been working largely by herself for a while with Stevens over on Tesla Station and Jackson ill, so I suppose it was inevitable something would slip. I was tasked by the Council to investigate the thefts and it didn’t take me long to identify how the thief was smuggling the supplies out of Medical. There is a maintenance shaft running above Medical and I found that the screws holding the grille in place had been removed and the metal covering was fastened instead with cable ties. It was then a case of finding out where the shaft led but unfortunately when I crawled through there were a number of ways the smugglers could go. I sent my men through the maze of shafts and they found a route that led to a room conveniently next to the Mess where Nygel does her legitimate work.

I decided to stake out the shaft. There was a crossroads of sorts where two tunnels intersected, and room to hide down the side shaft which offered a good view of the main shaft and anyone crawling down it. My men and I took turns doing the surveillance and last night it was my shift. It was a strange place to spend a night, hot and noisy. The shaft’s metal walls thrummed with the sound of machinery, the vibrations rippling through my body as I sat with my back pressed against a row of cables and my feet braced against the wall opposite. It was uncomfortable, but manageable.

A couple of hours into the surveillance I heard movement in the shaft but it seemed to be coming from Medical rather than the direction of the Mess. Had the thief broken into Medical another way? But why were they leaving this way if that were the case? I got my taser ready and crept closer to the junction of the two shafts. There was definitely someone crawling along the shaft; they weren’t being quiet about it and I could hear them breathing loudly with exertion. I held the taser in front of me, my thumb on the button and waited until a head appeared at the junction. I yelled “Stop!” and switched the taser on. The electrical light was bright and bounced off the metal walls, dazzling me. I moved to strike the intruder on the back when a voice I recognised shouted back at me.

“Don’t! It’s me. It’s Abby.”

I stopped my arm mid-air, confused for a moment.

“Abby? What the hell?”

“Can you turn that thing off?”

I realised I still had the taser extended so I switched it off and we were plunged into darkness for a moment, although my eyes were still seeing bright flickers from the taser. I felt Abby’s hand on my knee as she groped blindly for something to hold on to. I took her hand and pulled her into the side shaft. We both sat there for a moment, breathing hard, gathering ourselves. After a minute my eyes readjusted to the gloom of the shaft and I turned to look at her.

“I could have killed you!”

“Don’t be dramatic. Third degree burns at best.”

She gave me a look that’s half sarcastic smirk and half frustration. I get it a lot.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were the thief.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve tried waiting patiently for a breakthrough but I couldn’t stand doing nothing so I thought I’d come and help, make sure you don’t fall asleep.”

I didn’t rise to the bait of her last comment. Not being able to do anything has probably been killing Abby for the last week. She has to be at the heart of the action.

“You’d better sit quietly, then. All noise is amplified in here and the thief will hear the slightest sound, if they haven’t already thanks to you.”

She glared at me but didn’t speak, just settled herself down against the opposite wall with her legs stretched out in front of her. Unfortunately, she was on the side closest to the shaft entrance.

“Not there! You’ll get in my way if I have to move quickly.”

“For heaven’s sake, Kane.”

“I don’t know why you’re mad at me. I didn’t ask you here. Ow!”

She caught my shin with her foot as she scrambled over my body. I’m not sure if it was an accident or deliberate.

“Just sit still and be quiet, if that’s at all possible.”

“OK!”

This time she sat next to me but with a gap between us large enough to sail a ship through. She drew her knees up to her chin, hugging them tight. Her head was turned towards me. I could tell she was itching to speak but I looked away and concentrated on the maintenance shaft. I could hear her breathing, though; slow deep breaths like she was meditating or something. I spoke without looking at her.

“Can you breathe a little quieter?”

“What do you mean? I’m not breathing loudly.”

“You are! You sound like one of those artificial respirators you put your patients on. Maybe you’re in need of one.”

I turned to look at her. She had her hand over her chest as though she were testing the strength of her breaths.

“That’s funny. It was hard work crawling along that shaft and then being assaulted by you. I’m still slightly out of breath.”

“Then might I suggest you visit the Ark gym more often.”

You wouldn’t think someone could glare and roll their eyes at the same time but Abby can. As I was preparing to glare back I heard a scuffling noise from the direction of the main shaft. I put my fingers to my lips automatically although it wasn’t necessary; Abby’s not stupid. We were far enough back in the side shaft not to be seen unless someone deliberately looked right in. The shadow of a figure fell on the entrance to our shaft and then was gone. I listened as the sound faded in the direction of Medical.

Abby scooted closer to whisper in my ear. Her breath was warm and ticklish.

“Looks like we’re on,” she said.

I turned my head slightly so I could whisper back. “We need to catch them with the medical supplies.”

She nodded and her hair brushed against my face, its long strands catching in my eyelashes. She always smells of herbs, like how I imagine a summer’s day to smell on Earth. I think she infuses Rosemary or something into her hair wash. I crept closer to the junction of the two shafts and knelt, poised with the taser ready. Abby came up behind me, fingers grazing my back as she steadied herself. Adrenaline was making my heart race and it was my turn to try to slow my breathing.

I thought we might be sat there some time but no more than five minutes went past before we heard the thief crawling back along the shaft. As before, when it was Abby, I shouted stop and lit the taser up. I was dazzled again but not before the shape of a large man appeared and burnt itself into my retina. I struck out at the shape but missed and hit the metal floor which sent a buzz of electricity rippling through the aluminum-lined tunnel. Only the rubber soles of my shoes saved me from being electrocuted. I don’t remember a lot about what happened next except the thief also had a taser and struck out at me but he also missed and hit a cable that presumably conducted oxygen or something similar around this part of the Ark because there was a whoosh of air and a huge explosion of hot gas. I was thrown back down the side shaft some distance, landing on my back, which winded me. I don’t think I was knocked out but it took me a few moments to collect myself. Smoke had filled the tunnel making it difficult to breathe and impossible to see. I couldn’t see Abby but then I couldn’t see anything.

“Abby!” I shouted her name a few times but there was no reply. I sat up and knelt forward, started crawling back along the tunnel to the junction, feeling the floor around me as I went. A few yards further along I bumped up against a soft body. I put my hand out in the gloom and felt long hair and warm skin, then something sticky. I peered at my fingers. It looked like blood.

“Abby?”

The figure groaned, and then whispered my name. “Kane?”

“Yes, it’s me. Are you hurt? There’s some blood on your forehead I think.”

The smoke was drifting to the top of the shaft and I could see her better. She was touching her hand to her forehead, feeling the same sticky substance that I had.

“Can you see it? Is it bad?”

I leant over her and peered at the wound, moving matted strands of hair out of the way. There was sharp force trauma in the shape of a laceration but when I probed it carefully with my fingers it didn’t ooze any more. It was already starting to clot.

“You have a cut on your head but it’s not deep and it’s stopped bleeding. Can you sit up?”

She sat up with my help but she was woozy and I held her for a moment, while she recovered. It was strange to have her in my arms again, to feel her weight, her heat. It brought back memories I wished I didn’t have. Of course, that was only the start, although I didn’t know it then.

After a minute she clearly felt better because she tapped my arm to get me to move it from around her. She looked at me then, eyes roaming my face. I doubted she was checking out my good looks so I presumed she was looking for injuries.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Are you sure?” She touched my cheek with probing fingers and I winced. “This side of your face is red and swollen.”

I touched my cheek, fingers tracing the ghosts of hers. It did feel tender. “I must have fallen against something. It’s fine.”

Abby’s eyes suddenly grew wide, her mouth forming an O.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” I was concerned for a moment that she’d spotted some other terrible wound I wasn’t aware of.

“What about the man? The one in the shaft?”

I had forgotten about him in the confusion. Abby tried to get to her feet but I held her down.

“No. Wait here. I’ll go and look.”

“Kane!”

“Abby. Lie down where the better air is and recover. I’ll let you know if we need you.”

I left before she had a chance to complain further but I half expected her to crawl after me anyway. She never listens to me and pretty much does the opposite of anything I tell her. The smoke made all movement slow. My lungs were burning and my oesophagus seemed to have narrowed to the width of a hair; I could hardly breathe and I felt light-headed with lack of oxygen. When I got to the junction of the two shafts I couldn’t see much but it was obvious something catastrophic had happened. Wires and pipes were hanging down everywhere. I found the man a short way down the shaft buried under rubble. Well, I found parts of him. He was beyond help. I shouted to Abby, although with hardly any breath in me my voice came out strangled and wheezy.

“He’s dead, Abby. Stay where you are, I’m going to look for a way out.”

I picked my way through the debris, crouching to avoid the dangling wires, some of which were sparking and dancing as though they were alive. I won’t detail my entire search here; needless to say, all exits from the shaft were blocked. I was annoyed more than concerned. The explosion would have been heard throughout the station and I thought it was only a matter of a couple of hours until we were rescued. That turned out to be optimistic of me. I crawled back to Abby.

“I’m afraid we’re trapped.” She took the news better than I thought she would, shrugging her shoulders and muttering “Oh, well”. Maybe her head injury was worse than I thought. I sat back against the wall of the side shaft and Abby sat next to me. My radio was lying on the floor nearby and one look at it told me it would be no use. It was smashed, and its insides were hanging out in a way that reminded me of the man I’d just found in the maintenance shaft. I picked it up anyway and pressed the call button. There was nothing.

“We’ll have to wait to be rescued,” I said to Abby.

“I’m sure it won’t be long,” she replied.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I don’t know what she was thinking about, but I was trying to calculate how long it would take to get a team together and dig through the rubble of the shaft. Abby let out a sigh and I looked at her. She was shaking.

“What’s the matter?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Something is. You’re shivering. Are you in shock?”

“No, I’m just cold, Marcus.”

It was cold. Normally, the maintenance shaft was hot from all the pipework that crisscrossed the walls and ceiling, but clearly all the services had been knocked out in the explosion. I didn’t have a jacket to give her because I was expecting it to be warm and had left it in my quarters.

“Come here.” I lifted my arm to indicate she should come closer to me, but she didn’t move.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Let me put my arms around you, it’s the best way for us both to get warm.”

She looked at me, her eyes narrow and calculating, and then she shuffled closer, her body millimetres from mine, but still maintaining a gap.

“For heaven’s sake, Abby. It’s not as if I haven’t touched you before.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yes. It was.”

I put my arm around her and pulled her in giving her no choice about it. She sat stiffly for a moment, and then I felt her body relax, her bones easing, muscles loosening, and she leant in to me. I will admit a temptation to kiss the top of her head overwhelmed me. I don’t know where it came from, a desire to reassure her I suppose. I didn’t do it. Her breathing was steady but punctuated with shivers and I held her tighter, stroking her arm to get some heat into her.

“You smell like death,” she said. She’s not one for niceties is Abby.

“I think I kneeled in something unpleasant when I was looking for that man.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

Her voice was a low vibration against my chest, soft and sleep-heavy.

“You always smelled nice, when you were young, like spices,” she continued.

“Are you saying I don’t smell nice now, in normal circumstances I mean?”

She laughed. “I’m not saying that. I’m just remembering how you used to smell. This reminds me, I guess, being this close to you.”

Being that close to her was bringing up memories for me as well of the many times she lay in my arms when we were young. She was always so fresh, like soap, and herbs, and so light that sometimes I thought if it wasn’t for the heat of her I wouldn’t know she was there at all. She’s not much heavier now, but she has a gravity to her, a weight of personality that means you cannot fail to notice when she walks in the room. She makes her presence felt, and not just to me.

Of course, I didn’t say any of this to her. “It was my father’s scent.”

“I remember. The first time you wore it you doused yourself in it and we could smell you coming for five minutes before you entered the room.”

“You enjoyed pointing that out to everyone.”

“It couldn’t be ignored!”

“No. Well, you always have enjoyed humiliating me.” She stiffened in my arms at those words.

“I don’t enjoy humiliating you. It’s just. Some of the things you say and do, I can’t let you get away with.”

“Because I don’t behave the way you want me to.”

“You never have.”

I suspected we were talking about something entirely different now, a subject both of us had avoided for over twenty years. Was this really going to be the time she broached it with me? It wasn’t something I wanted to discuss but even I realised we couldn’t go on the way we were for much longer. All the hostility between us is bad for morale on the Council, and doesn’t always lead to clear decision-making. Maybe it was time we had it out.

“You’ve always wanted to control me,” I replied.

“That’s not true! I only ever wanted you to talk to me.”

“You’ve constructed a memory of past events that suits your own sainted image of yourself. It bears no comparison with the reality.”

“What?” The anger and indignation she clearly felt at my remark was evident in the high pitch of her voice. She was shaking again, though not with cold this time. I thought she would pull away from me, but she didn’t. She shook her head against my chest and went quiet, her body trembling as she tried to bring herself under control. I didn’t dare move a muscle, and my arms were aching with the effort of remaining still. At last she spoke, quietly this time, all traces of anger gone.

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

My response must have surprised her because she pulled away so she could look at me.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“You just said I changed the reality of what happened between us to suit my own purposes.”

“Well you have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t recognise the role I played in it.”

She was shaking her head again, the anger giving colour to her pale cheeks.

“The role you played? It was ALL your fault!”

“I don’t see how it was all my fault.”

“You lured me in.”

“I did not lure you in.”

“You did. You made me think I was everything to you, you let me give myself to you body and soul, and then you left me, like I had meant nothing all that time.”

I felt ashamed hearing the truth of it laid out so starkly like that. It was more complicated than it sounds, but Abby had stripped everything down to the bone, and there was no denying it.

“I’m sorry I treated you like that.”

“Why did you do it, Marcus?”

I sighed. Opening up about myself has never been my strong suit. I don’t understand the need people have to constantly expose every thought or feeling they have for the scrutiny of others. Some things should be kept to oneself. I could avoid her question, and nothing would change. Abby would continue to hate me, we would carry on hostilities until we got old and died and were floated into space. I was tired, though. Tired of arguing all the time, tired of, I don’t know, being so completely alone I guess. Not that Abby and I were going to suddenly become best friends. She had Jake, and Clarke, and she didn’t need me at all. Still, it might be interesting to try speaking the truth for once, and I knew what the truth was, always had. I am The Little Prince after all.

“I loved you too much.”

“What does that mean? How can you love someone too much?”

“Because I didn’t know what to do with it. It was overwhelming. I was twenty and I looked at you one day and all I saw was us married with a child and I didn’t know how to be a good husband or a father. I didn’t think I could give you what you deserved. I had ambitions. I wanted a career in the guard. I didn’t want to end up resenting you.”

“Marcus, I never said I wanted to get married and have a child. I wanted to be a doctor more than anything, you know that.”

“Abby, a year later you married Jake and within another year you had Clarke. You always wanted a child.”

“And you didn’t?”

“Not then. Not back then. No.”

“And you still don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Want a child.”

“Are you offering?”

“Don’t be facetious, Marcus. This is what you always did as soon as things got serious, made a dumb joke, laughed it off.”

“I’m sorry.” And I was. She was right, as she so often is. I did deflect from serious personal conversations by using humour, and now I do it by making myself so unapproachable, no one would dream of having a such a conversation with me. Except Abby. Of course.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“You’ve never married, Marcus. You don’t have a child, that you know of. There, I got the joke in before you.” She laughed, and I smiled although I didn’t feel like it. “Why not?”

I shook my head. “We go twenty years with barely so much as a how ARE you, Marcus, and then you just rip me open and try to examine my heart and soul.”

“We might never get out of here. Don’t you want to resolve this?”

“We’re not going to die, Abby.”

She gave me a rueful smile. “The oxygen is low, Marcus. I have noticed the signs of hypoxia in myself and you. Your skin is blue-grey and your breathing is fast and shallow. I could feel your heart racing beneath my cheek.”

“That’s the effect you have on me.”

“No it’s not, and you know it.”

She does have that effect on me, more than I’d like to admit, but she was right. I had noticed the symptoms myself. We were losing breathable air at an alarming rate.

“It’s not that complicated. I’m not married because I never met anyone I wanted to spend that much time with.”

“What about Cece?”

I shrugged. “Cece is. Well it’s just recreation, for both of us. I think.”

“You haven’t changed. You could ask her, find out what she wants.”

“I don’t want to, Abby, that’s the truth. I’m sorry. You want me to be happy like you are so that you can feel less guilty about what happened too.”

Her eyes opened wide at that. “What do you mean? Why would I feel guilty? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You started dating Jake three months after we broke up and before I knew it you were married. I thought, after a break away from each other, maybe we would get a new perspective on our relationship, start again, but you moved on.”

Her cheeks were flaming red now. “You are unbelievable! You never said a word to me about any of this, never even told me why you left. It was just I can’t do this anymore, Abby. I was devastated.”

“For three months.”

“I needed someone, something. But anyway, that has nothing to do with you. You lost the right to comment on my life the minute you left.”

“I should have spoken to you, told you the truth. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you should, and we could have been honest about our thoughts about the future. Who knows what life we could have been having now if you’d done that.”

That remark cut me to the bone. She didn’t mean it to, I’m sure about that. What would a life with Abby have entailed? Would we have had a child of our own eventually, younger than Clarke is, with dark hair and deep brown eyes? Or would we have still argued and butted heads, and made each other thoroughly miserable? It’s impossible to know, but her words made me feel the loss of it, of what might have been. It was painful.

“I guess we’ll never know.”

“I guess not.”

She looked down at the floor, and I stared off into the gloom. There was nothing else either of us had the desire to say, and so we stayed silent.

After a few minutes she curled up on the floor next to me. “I’m going to sleep.”

“I don’t think you should. The oxygen.”

“It’s going to run out anyway. What difference does it make if I’m awake?”

“Don’t say that, Abby. I’m sorry for what I did.”

“I know you are.” She paused for a moment, and then “I loved you.”

“I loved you too.”

“You should have told me.”

“I know.”

She drifted off and so did I because the next thing I remember was rough hands shaking me and a gruff male voice calling my name. Our rescuers had arrived, and although we were weak from hypoxia we were otherwise none the worse for wear. A little wiser, perhaps, and sadder. The weight of her words about the future has been laying heavy on me. I had to write this all down, to try and relieve some of the heft of it, before it crushes me. She smiled at me and wished me a good night when we were both discharged from Medical. I don’t know how this night will change our daily interactions if at all. Time will tell, I suppose.

#kabby #the 100 #marcus kane #abby griffin #kabby fanfic #ff #writing #henry ian cusick #paige turco #challenge

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