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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

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If I Go, I'm Goin' Crazy - Part 2 (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: When Waller and the US government will do anything to cover up their mistakes, Delphia Holman takes matters into her own hands. That information will get out - and the love of her life will live to tell about it.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 7776

Warnings: spoilers for The Suicide Squad, major fluff, panic attack/stress symptoms, blood/injury mention, Rick Flag being a softy once again, language

Timeline: July 2021 (5 years after the first part posted)

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Five more years, over 100 successful missions, and Task Force X was still going strong. Five more years, one night blissfully spent together turned into multiple in a row, one move in, and Delphia Holman and Rick Flag were still together. Of course, everyone in control had taken a bet on whether or not it would happen eventually, and Economos raked in the cash when Holman casually dropped that she couldn’t work late due to dinner plans with Flag.

And while everyone else poked fun and made Delphia seriously blush — Amanda Waller took note of this relationship development quietly. Stored the information in the back of her mind to use later. It didn’t need to be brought up unless truly necessary. Unless one of them truly stepped out of line. Leverage.

Waller had to guess that Flag knew about Delphia’s abilities. Just by the way they seemed attached at the hip these days. But also by the way he would graze far too close to death and somehow make it out alive. Like he knew something beforehand. She would let it slide for now. Keeping Flag alive was turning missions set to fail into major success. Besides, in spite of Amanda Waller’s uncompromising and cold exterior, she had a soft spot for her assistant. A small one, but at least a soft spot. One that she feared more than any gun pointed to her head.

It was early morning. So early the sun hadn’t even peeked its shining head over the horizon yet, the world still enclosed in darkness and sleep. But Delphia was blearily awake. Eyes only half open.

Her sleep had been unrestful, plagued with half visions of the future. The future of the mission Rick was about to depart for in only a few hours. It was a violent one. Full of death and destruction and things that no one had ever seen before. These visions made it impossible to rest, so instead she rested her chin on Rick’s belly and watched him slumber instead.

In the darkness, fast asleep, he looked so peaceful. Younger even. One arm thrown up onto his pillow and the other gently laid across her back. Her eyes trailed across the tattoos on his upper arms, up to the sharp line of his jaw, down across his collarbone. His hair was messy and he breathed deeply and she felt so entirely in love with him it was insane. Her mind wasn’t thinking about anything, and before Rick, this meant that she would accidentally slip into visions of the future. Seeing things she didn’t want to. Making it impossible for her to relax and just have a quiet moment to herself, always having to have her mind occupied just in case. But with him — with him she could think of nothing at all and stay right there in the present. Enjoying the moment for the first time in her life.

“You watchin’ me sleep?” Rick spoke groggily as his hand came up to smooth over her hair.

She focused back on his face and smiled softly. Hazel eyes barely focused, he was blinking down at her, a lopsided grin stretching his lips. His hand felt so warm as it settled on the back of her neck, massaging softly. Delphia curled up into him even more on instinct. Wanting to be as close to him as she could get.

“Yeah,” she admitted.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He tried to blink away the sleepiness from his eyes, free hand coming down to run over his face.

“Yeah.” Delphia pulled a hand out from under her chin and began tracing her fingers over his chest. “Couldn’t shut my Sight off.”

“Hm — I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, giving her red hair a soft tug, “Come here.”

She grinned as she pulled herself up and rested her cheek against his chest, legs straddling his thick waist. Rick wrapped his arms around her shoulders. His lips grazed her scalp and she let out a soft sound, almost like a purr, that made Rick chuckle. Deep and reverberating right into Delphia’s chest and it somehow made her feel so warm and at home and good.

“Listen to my heart,” Rick whispered against her hair, placing one hand on her head and holding her to his chest, “Listen to the beat of it.”

Delphia practically melted into him, joined with him as one, as she focused on the steady beat of his heart. It rattled around inside her skull until there was nothing else to think about. Until her mind was so preoccupied with the sound that she couldn’t possibly get lost in visions of the future. She hummed again as the feeling washed over her. Of being completely present, completely held, and completely loved.

There it was. Sleep was finally beginning to wash over her. It was peaceful and beautiful and in the arms of the one she loved it was nearly like drowning in sunlight.

But before she could fall into it completely, a phone somewhere across the room began to ring.

Rick groaned at the sudden, loud noise. Holding onto Delphia a bit tighter so she wouldn’t try to get up and answer it. Though tried as she might to wiggle herself away from him. Most definitely fully awake now.

“Rick,” she grumbled against his chest as she tried to get up, “It’s my work phone! I gotta answer it!”

He sighed in defeat and released her.

Delphia practically leapt from the bed and across the room to the phone still ringing loudly atop their chest of drawers. She caught it just in time, pressing the button to answer and putting it to her ear.

“This is Holman,” she answered as professionally as she could with early morning grog still in her voice and breath heavy.

“I need you at Belle Reve in thirty.” Waller sounded wide awake at this hour.

“Any particular reason?” Delphia asked as she flicked on the lights to their closet and began searching for clothes.

“Change of plans — we’re adding Peacemaker to the team.” This made Delphia pause as she reached for a blouse. “I need you to run the mission again.”

“But — “ She glanced back to the bed, Rick was sitting up — paying attention to the conversation with a furrowed brow. “But they leave in a few hours.”

“Don’t care,” Waller deadpanned, “Just get your ass over here.”

And with that, she hung up. Delphia stared down at her phone for a moment, unsure what Waller’s plan was in adding Peacemaker to the team. But her expression dropped when she did, in fact, figure it out. Peacemaker followed orders to a fault. His moral compass was wavering. An action by the government could cross a line but if he wasn’t told to stop it or say anything about it, he wouldn’t. He would do anything you told him to as long as you told him it was for the betterment of the world and would bring peace and freedom for all. And he would kill anyone in order to see it done.

Unlike Rick Flag.

Who for so long had served his country dutifully, who’s moral compass only reached a certain point. Only in the face of the truly diabolical. For so long, he had gone around the world cleaning up the messes of men far more powerful than himself. And Waller could tell that he was getting tired of it. Tired of this life. Tired of fighting. Tired of following orders that made him feel hollow inside. So she was finding his replacement.

But surely she wouldn’t kick him off the team? He was a leader. Someone many members of Task Force X trusted and actually obeyed the orders of. No. She wouldn’t do that. But then Delphia thought back to the countless times Waller had made her look into the future of the mission. Operation Jotunheim. In the end, Rick would go with his conscience and steal a tape full of information about the American government’s involvement with Project Starfish. The mission would end in success by all accounts, but the US would be exposed for horrific crimes.

Which was not Waller’s endgame. She wanted all traces of Project Starfish wiped from the face of the Earth. Just thinking about it made Delphia’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

Peacemaker was Waller’s backup plan to make sure that tape was destroyed.

Oh, God.

“Dee, what’s going on?” Rick called from the bed.

“Er — uh — “ She quickly put the phone down on a shelf in the closet and pulled out a shirt. “Last minute adjustment to the team, I guess. Waller wants me to come in and take a look.”

“Anything I should worry about?” he asked as he watched her rush through the buttons on her blouse to get it on.

“P-Possibly.” She shoved on a pair of dress pants and some flats. “I’ll find you before you leave.”

Delphia threw on a blazer then hurried over to the bathroom to finish getting ready. While she brushed her teeth, Rick came in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He gave her neck a kiss and breathed deep the scent of her. He smiled against her pulse as her free hand wrapped around his forearm.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She struggled to reply around her toothpaste, “I love you, too.”

Delphia pulled herself from her vision of the future, eyes refocusing on Waller’s office, with a gasp and tears streaming down her face.

No, no, no, no.

“Is the mission successful?” Waller asked calmly, eyes dully taking in her assistant.

“Y-Yes,” Delphia stuttered through her tears, “B-But — “

“No buts,” Waller said, “Is any trace of Project Starfish destroyed?”

Delphia barely choked out a whisper, “Yes.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

It took everything in Delphia’s power to not sprint from the room. She got up from her chair calmly, trying to get control over her breathing and her tears. But as soon as she was out in the hallway she was jogging in the direction of the prisoner prep rooms. Rick would be waiting there to escort the newest Task Force X member and she needed to get to him.

She couldn’t stop seeing it. Couldn’t stop the milky whiteness overtaking her vision as she ran through the hallways and bumped into people as she went. She tried to blink the white away, tried to stay in the moment, but her brain was going faster than her rational thoughts could process. It was making it hard to breathe, hard to swallow, hard to hear. All she could see was blood and bathroom tiles and dead hazel eyes staring up at her.

And there he was. Standing in the hallway at the end of prisoner prep, leaning back against the wall, waiting for the mission to start. He smiled when he spotted her, picking himself up from the wall. But then he saw her face. Buckled in fright and worry, tear stains on her red cheeks, and blue eyes constantly flickering between normal and white.

“Rick,” she muttered, fresh tears bubbling out of her as she leaned her hand against the wall.

As a man of action, he quickly pulled her into the supply closet across the hall and locked it from the inside. But once inside the dark space, Delphia burst. Seeing him only made it worse. The milky whiteness overtook her and she was right back in Jotunheim. Unable to do anything but watch as Peacemaker jammed that bathroom tile into Rick’s heart. She gasped for breath. Her lungs wouldn’t fill with enough air. She felt like a fish out of water as she reached out and grabbed Rick’s tactical vest to keep herself upright. Oh, God, there he was. Lying on his back, dead eyes staring up at the ceiling, tile sticking out of his chest. Peacemaker had left but she couldn’t stop looking at him.

This was his future.

“Dee! Delphia!” In the back of her mind, she could hear Rick calling her name as quietly as he could.

She felt hands grab her shoulders. Something hard against her cheek. Then a hand on the back of her neck, massaging gently.

“Dee — listen to my heart,” Rick spoke softly against the shell of her ear, “Listen to the beat of it.”

In the future, she tore her eyes away from his body on the floor. She could hear it. Softly, in the distance. Like a familiar beat of drums that called her home. White overtook her vision again and she was in a dark closet, vision blurred on the edges with tears. Her breathing was slowing, still rapid. But the only thing she could hear was Rick’s heart, still alive and beating in her ear. It moved around her skull until there was nothing left except his arms holding her tight and the fact that right here, right now, he was still alive.

And that there was something she could do about it.

“Rick,” she whimpered.

“You saw it again — didn’t you?” he guessed quietly, thumb moving gently against her waist.

Delphia nodded.

She had seen his death countless times — in dozens of different ways. Gunshot wounds. Falls. Beatings. Crushes. Stabbings. But no matter how many times she saw it she was never prepared the next time it came around. It never ceased to bring a panic from deep inside her, like a well overflowing until she could feel nothing else. To see the one that you love die in so many different ways, so many different times — it was torture. Unbareable and painful and otherwordly. How had her ancestors dealt with this? How had they lived entire lives seeing the deaths of everyone that they ever cared about and not said a word of complaint to the aliens above who did this to them? Delphia cursed them nearly every single day.

This time, however, this vision felt different. It felt final and inexorable. That no matter what she did this was going to occur. There was no stopping it. It was meant to be.

No. Nothing was meant to be. The future is not set in stone.

“Can you show me?” he asked gently into the top of her head.

It took everything inside her to pull herself away from him — to stop listening to the reassuring beat of his heart. She looked into his face, pinched in concern and cast in dark shadow that made his eyes look sunken in. Squeezing her eyes shut a few more tears fell that were quickly wiped away by hands much larger than her own. Then she reached up, pressing her thumbs into his temples and wrapping her hands around his head. He was sweating just a bit. Rick always hated this part, but it needed to be done in order to save his life.

Rick Flag was the only person in her entire life she was able to take with her into her visions of the future. They had been messing around one night — her looking into the future while Rick tried to guess what she was looking at. A game they played often. But one night Rick suggested, as a joke, that she needed to connect to his mind in order for him to guess right. Delphia obliged and grabbed ahold of his head, concentrating as hard as she could on Rick, to play along, as she looked into a random future. But when she unfocused, came out of the milkey whiteness, Rick was standing right there with her. Confused as hell and screaming. They had stayed up the entire night after that — going around the world together ten years from now.

Delphia took a calming breath and thought about the coming mission again. Corto Maltese. Jotunheim. Starro. She felt her eyes and mind unfocus — heard Rick take in a sharp breath. The dark supply closet became blurred and was suddenly gone. Replaced by a milky white that faded to reveal a different scene entirely.

She tried to show him what was only truly important for his survival. Rick felt that it was unfair when she showed him too much of the missions that he went on, saying that it gave him an advantage over his teammates. So she dropped them into a vision of just the very end of the assignment. Right when he’s pulling the tape out of Thinker’s computer.

Out of the corner of her eye, Delphia saw Rick looking around the room in disgust. So this was Project Starfish. The first time Delphia saw it, she had thrown up. But right now she couldn’t even care to look at it. All she could focus on was Rick, future Rick, all bloodied and bruised and pissed off that the government had used him once again. She grabbed hold of present Rick’s hand and forced him to pay attention when Peacemaker came with his gun pointed at his head.

Then as the building fell on top of them. Then as the two of them tried to kill one another over the tape. And finally, Delphia and Rick watched, as Peacemaker jammed a piece of bathroom tile right into Rick’s heart. Delphia felt him flinch as he watched, eyes observant, and he gripped her hand just a little bit tighter. That was enough.

She pulled them both back to the present and into that closet.

Rick took a shuddering breath and squeezed her waist. “Well, that was…Reassuring.”

“Please, just — “ Her hands slipped down his face to feel the rough stubble of his cheeks. “Please come back to me.”

“You know I always do, baby,” he whispered.

Nudging his nose with her’s, he drew her into a kiss. Soft, gentle, reassuring, saying so much more than either of them ever could. Delphia desperately clung to his shoulders and neck. His grip on her waist was a vice. Their lips crushed against one another. Fingers dug into flesh — sure to leave bruises. But it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter. Because to be held like this, hard and truthful and loving, it was like escaping death. Over, and over, and over again.

“You told Flag about his death?” Waller questioned.

Delphia sat across from her in her office, stone faced and hands clasped lightly in her lap. “No.”

“You’re a shit liar, Holman.” Waller stared across the desk at her with a dead expression. “I know you’ve been doing it for years now. It’s been to my favor thus far so there’s been no need to confront you. But this mission is far too important.”

“But he’s important to me.”

“I don’t care.” Waller got up from her desk and moved to the door. “You’ve compromised the mission so you’re off the case. Congratulations — you’re on desk duty.”

“Wait, what?” Delphia asked, getting up from her chair and looking back at Waller with a wounded expression.

She needed to be in the control room. Waller always wanted her in the control room. Especially for when things got dicey. She would give Delphia a signal and she would look into the future by only a few minutes, letting her know the outcome before it even happened. But Delphia also wanted to know what was going on as it was happening. Wanted to know if her visions came true or not. To know if Rick was okay or not.

“I want you at your desk for the next few days. If I see you anywhere near the control room, Holman, I swear to God — I will not hesitate to put a power dampening collar on you.”

Waller slammed the door shut behind her. And through tears, Delphia put a hand to her neck. She had one of those on before. Back when she had very little control of her powers and would get stuck in the future. It was the only way to get her back. But the collar was heavy, demoralizing, and made her feel wholly unlike herself. And she knew that if she didn’t do what Waller said pretty soon she would start making poorly veiled threats towards her elderly adoptive parents — or worse, Rick.

So Delphia retreated to her desk like a kicked dog. Tail between her legs and tears building in her eyes. And as she sat down, she could already feel her heartrate picking up. The slight shake of her hands. Her stomach twisting and turning on itself. Taking a calming breath, she thought it best to dive into her work. Catch up on reports and adjust Waller’s busy schedule. There was nothing she could do now. It was all out of her hands. And even if she couldn’t watch the monitors like a hawk or listen in on comms, she knew that Rick was going to be okay.

At least for now.

But about two hours later she was out of work to do and that anxious feeling was rising in her stomach again. Filling her mouth with bile and making it difficult not to turn her Sight off. And Delphia supposed that one little check in wouldn’t hurt.

She thought about who Rick Flag was. After all these years in the military he still wasn’t a morning person. Giving of himself, of his time, his money, his kindness. Very good at putting together IKEA furniture. Always had to have a hand on her — especially in public. Light, goodness, stubborn, kept the apartment clean, liked to be the little spoon sometimes.

Her eyes unfocused and she was in a jungle. A jungle of Corto Maltese only a few minutes from now. It was dark, the night sounds of the tropical forest buzzed loudly in her ears. She was at the edge of the freedom fighter’s camp, which was alight with lanterns and campfires. There was soft Latin music coming from a crackling radio and a small group of people were laughing. It was safe here. And it didn’t take her long to find Rick. Her Sight had dumped her right next to the tent Soria would put him in to patch him up and let him rest.

She moved inside the tent and there he was — or would be in a few minutes — laying down on a cot asleep. He would be cleaned up, his wounds tended to, and then the freedom fighters would leave him alone to sleep until they could figure out what to do with an American soldier. Delphia breathed deep as she took in the sight of him. White bandages covered his shoulder and side. But other than that he looked okay. She moved further inside the tent and knelt down at his side. More than anything, she wanted to be there with him. To heal his wounds and hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But Rick would’ve rather died then allow her to come on a mission. So this would have to do.

With every near death experience, Delphia always was able to give some tip about what he could do to avoid it. Don’t stand right there. That guy has a knife. Get behind this cover. But this time was different. There was no advice or warning she could give that would just make his death not happen. He had already seen the atrocities that the American government had done and were making him cover up. The limit of his moral compass had been reached. And she could tell he was tired — so very tired of fighting for something he wasn’t entirely sure he believed in anymore. He was still going to try and take that tape. She just knew he was. That was who Rick Flag was. Which was why it seemed so inevitable. Which was why it felt like her heart was trying to jump out of her throat — either that or she was about to scream at the top of her lungs.

Never had she felt so helpless in the face of a future she had seen. Never before had she felt like this was the last time she would ever be with him.

“Dee,” Rick whispered and she jumped at the sound, looking down at him with raised brows, “I’m gonna be okay — I love you, baby.”

His eyes were open. It looked like he was looking right at her. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she would be watching. Tears fell down her cheeks as she reached out and touched his face. She couldn’t feel him, and he definitely wouldn’t be able to feel her. But that was okay.

This was enough.

Three days.

Everyone around the office could tell that Delphia was miserable. She barely talked to anyone. She wasn’t in the control room with the rest of them like she usually was. She looked pale (sometimes green), with bags under her eyes and a permanent frown pulling on her lips. Economos wondered to the rest of the team if her and Flag had broken up. Crawley and Harcourt immediately rejected this idea, having been secretly rooting for the two of them for years. But Waller quickly shut down any more conversation about it. Which ultimately led the team to assume that whatever Delphia was upset about, it had to do with Waller and this mission.

But the mission was about to end. On it’s last hours, Delphia was still sitting behind her desk outside Waller’s office. She was working furiously. Anything to keep her mind distracted and focused on what her hands needed to get done. Anything to keep herself from slipping into a future she so desperately wanted to see, and at the same time wanted to avoid at all costs. She wanted to know if he was alive, if he made it. But she feared that if she looked in on him again she would break down completely. Or worse, be unable to pull herself back out — paralyzed by the fear that this could be the last she saw of him.

As she typed away, finishing a speech Waller didn’t have to give for another month, the boss herself came into the room holding an ice pack to the back of her head and a scowl etched into her face.

“What happened?” Delphia asked as she watched Waller stalk over to her office.

“Wouldn’t you know?” Waller questioned back before yanking her office door open and stepping inside.

Delphia grinned only slightly. Yeah. She did know. But had chosen not to share that information with Waller.

Through the open door, Delphia could see that Waller was taking a phone call. What call could be so important that she had to come all the way back to her office to take it? Delphia quickly picked up her own phone and listened in on the other line.

“And that’s only a taste of what’s on that drive. I’ve uploaded it all to a secure server.” That was Robert DuBois’ voice. Delphia furrowed her brow as she tried not to act suspicious. “Now, if you kill any one of us, or my daughter ever sees the inside of a prison, it goes public. If we all go free, plus Flag and his girl get to retire — it never has to see the light of day.”

“I told you I’d make you a leader, DuBois,” Waller replied, “You got a deal.”

Delphia quickly slammed the phone back down on the receiver and stared at it for a long time. Her mind racing. Flag and his girl? Retire? Rick was alive?

“I’m assuming you heard that, Holman,” Waller called from her office.

“Yeah,” Delphia said, only daring to glance towards her boss’s office.

“I’ll send the paperwork to your email tomorrow. But for now — get the fuck out. I genuinly never wanna see you again.”

Delphia didn’t have to be told twice. But she also heard, underneath the stone-cold and muted hostility, the care that was in Waller’s voice. I don’t wanna see you again — I don’t wanna see you locked up like your mother was. It made Delphia smile as she looked back at Waller’s office. Fourteen years of her life were spent working with Waller. Most of them were miserable and difficult, but professionally it had been all she had ever known. And Waller, despite her faults, had been a good boss.

It was as if, suddenly — as she grabbed her purse and strutted out the door never to return — the world was so much wider than it had ever been before. She was no longer at Waller’s every beck and call. She could follow any career path she wanted. Which was something she hadn’t thought about since she was a small child. She would never return to the place of death where she was born. She could move away from Louisiana if she wanted. If Rick wanted.

Oh, my God — Rick.

What were once potential screams of agony were turning to shouts of joy as she moved through the bowels of Belle Reve. Ashes to fresh water. Death to life.

Rick was alive. And they were free. Free to go wherever they wanted, no longer bound to ARGUS and its master plan. They could actually, physically go to all those places they only saw in her visions. Free to be whatever they wanted. Rick had always been a military man, just like his father. But he also dreamed about starting a family, owning a house with the nice fenced in yard. And Delphia, well — she could finally start dreaming about what her future could look like instead of knowing what it entailed.

Her own future was no longer set in stone.

It took several hours for Task Force X to arrive back at Belle Reve from Corto Maltese. They flew in by helicopter and then were driven from the airfield to the penitentiary where they all were immediately carted to the clinic to be treated for their various wounds.

Rick Flag was probably the worst for wear out of all of them. Major concussion. Deep stab wound on his right side. Bruises on about 30% of his body. A cut above his eye. Broken rib. A knocked out tooth. But other than that he was alive, and breathing, and there wasn’t a bathroom tile sticking out of his chest and that was enough for Delphia. That was enough for a lifetime.

“Hey Holman,” Dr. Fitzgibbon came up to her in the hallway outside the clinic with a sigh and a clipboard, “I know it’s against protocol because you’re not his spouse or anything — but I really don’t give a fuck. So here’s Flag’s personal effects. He should be out in a few minutes.”

He handed her a baggy full of an assortment of items, mainly two side arms, shoulder holster, a pocket knife, and a torn up yellow shirt. She asked as she set it in her lap, “How is he?”

“He’s fine,” Dr. Fitzgibbon sighed, “Should take it easy for a few days — I know he won’t. But apparently he’s not my problem anymore, so — “

Fitzgibbon tossed up his hands, turned, and walked back inside the clinic. Delphia breathed deeply as she watched him go. He really was the most aggravating man.

She could see through the window that Rick was sitting up on one of the observation tables, a nurse cleaning up the cut on his face. He was deep in conversation with Robert DuBois. Brow furrowed and left hand gesturing widely. All that remained of Task Force X was inside the clinic as well. Harley Quinn, Ratcatcher 2, Polka-Dot Man, and Nanaue. They all looked exhausted. Especially Ratcatcher.

But Delphia couldn’t focus on them for too long, her eyes kept drifting back to Rick. Who, once he noticed she was just on the other side of the glass, kept looking over at her with increasing frequency while still talking with DuBois. She smiled at him, a lopsided grin that made her cheeks hurt. DuBois seemed to notice his lost interest and looked out the window with an irritated expression. He then nodded his head at Delphia and Rick nodded with a smile.

Oh. They were talking about her now.

She looked away from them blushing, down to the plastic bag in her lap. For personal effects, they didn’t seem very personal. Two sidearms, ones that weren’t even his. His father’s pocket knife that he took with him on every mission. A disgusting and nearly ripped to shreds yellow shirt that she had no idea where he got it from. Delphia shifted the items around carefully, trying to see if there was anything else inside. And that was when she spotted a small, blue, velvet box — speckled by dirt and blood.

Her gut reaction was to snap her head up and look at Rick through the window. But he was distracted by Harley, who had bounced right back from the mission and seemed as jovial as ever. He, DuBois, and Harley were now chatting and laughing together. Delphia looked back at the little velvet box and swallowed hard. An overwhelming joy settled deep inside her bones as she felt the shape of it through the plastic.

How long had he been carrying it around? When was he planning on asking?

Delphia had been expecting this. Rick had not been so subtle — especially when he outright asked her if she had ever seen any rings she liked. They had talked about marriage before. Rick was a traditional man, when he loved somebody he was going to show it and he was going to show it in the way he felt was right. But with the mission and everything that had been going on, she had completely forgotten.

Tears blurred the edges of her vision as she continued to look at the box. Tears of a sudden and complete joy.

But then Rick’s gentle, tired voice called her away softly, “Dee?”

He was standing outside the clinic doors. A fresh t-shirt and Army issue sweats on. His smile was light and affectionate as he watched her get up from her seat quickly and cross the hall towards him. Delphia, without even thinking, put her hands on his waist and pressed her forehead into his chest. Right where that tile would have been. The tears welled up and stained his shirt. She could hear his heart beating as he wrapped her up in his arms.

“I — I…” She tried to find some words, any words to describe what she felt in that moment.

Thankful. Relieved. Terrified. Whole. Scared. Warm. In love. Loved.

But Rick seemed to understand. “I know.”

“Come on.” Delphia pulled herself away, with some effort, and grabbed ahold of his hand. “Let’s go home.”

“Please,” he sighed, shoulders visibly sagging as he allowed her to lead him down the hall.

They were quiet as they walked through Belle Reve one final time. Out to the parking lot where, so many nights after a mission, they nearly kissed. It was midafternoon. The Louisiana sun was blazing hot and the air was thick with moisture. It nearly made it hard to breathe. The marshlands surrounding the penitentiary were alive with animal sounds. Frogs croaking, cranes calling to one another, summer bugs buzzing as one. But once they were inside Delphia’s car, all the noise stopped. Rick had to lower himself down into his seat slowly, his tired body screaming at him to just stop. And once he was fully seated he huffed and leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closing only briefly.

Delphia started the car and began the thirty minute drive back to their apartment.

“How did you do it?” she asked.

Rick groaned as he reached over and put his hand on her thigh. Making it very hard for her to concentrate on driving. He squeezed her flesh gently as he began, “I made a plan with Cleo and DuBois. Told them about you and what you saw. Once I had the tape and Peacemaker came in — we took him down together.”

“What happened to showing it to the press?”

“DuBois had the better idea of usin’ it as a bargaining chip to get us all free.”

“And is that what you wanted?” She glanced over at his tired face and couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “To be free?”

“I don’t think it’s settled in yet,” he sighed, “But if it means we get to be together and we get to be happy — then, yeah. It’s what I want.”

Delphia grinned now as she took up his hand from her thigh and pressed it to her lips. Kissing each knuckle, every cut and bruise, as her eyes remained focused on the road.

“I love you, Rick Flag,” she spoke into his flesh.

“I love you, too, Dee.” He was smiling when she looked over at him. “So much. Forever.”

Rick Flag’s apartment had changed so much in five years. For one thing, it was no longer just his apartment. Both of their names were on the lease now. It was no longer bare bones and necessities only. There were curtains, and party dishes, art on the walls, pictures on the mantle, vases and plants, throw pillows and quilts. Evidence that he lived there. That they had made a life there — together. Her parents Christmas card was still on the counter and a photo album of their trip to the beach last year was on the coffee table. There were mugs in the sink and socks on the floor. And it was messy and beautiful and personal and home.

Delphia came inside first. Unlocking the door and helping Rick back to the bedroom. He immediately kicked off the clinic slippers he’d been wearing and practically fell down onto the bed. Delphia chuckled as she watched him gather one of the throw pillows into his arms and tuck it into his chest. He really was tired.

“Do you wanna just sleep in that, babe?” she asked as she set the baggy full of personal effects down on the chest of drawers.

He only groaned in response.

“Okay,” she chuckled lightly, “Do you need anything before you go to sleep then?”

She took the guns out of the baggy carefully, made sure the safeties were on, and put them away in Rick’s gun safe. The shirt she threw in the dirty laundry, unsure what else to do with it. The pocketknife was left respectfully on the chest of drawers, by his father’s Purple Heart. Then all that was left was that little velvet box. What on earth was she supposed to do with that?

“Hm — you, baby,” Rick called from the bed, “Need you.”

Smiling from ear to ear, she turned to look at him for a moment. Curled up on the bed with comfy sweats, one arm stretched out across the comforter like he was reaching towards her. Hazel eyes barely open and hair messy. Oh, yes. Anytime. Anywhere. Any future. She was his, and he was hers.

But his eyes widened when he saw the box still in her hands.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, until she too realized that she still held it delicately in her fingers.

“Oh, God.” She quickly hid it behind her back, unsure how that was going to help. “I’m sorry — I didn’t mean to — I can put it back!”

Rick struggled to roll onto his back and sit up slightly in bed. Tossing the throw pillow onto the floor. Then he patted the spot next to him softly. “Come ‘ere.”

Taking a deep breath, Delphia climbed onto the bed and sat down in the spot beside him. Rick wrapped one arm around her hip, giving it a reassuring squeeze, while the other took hold of the hand not gripping the velvet box for dear life.

“Is this what you want?” he asked softly, looking up into her face like she was the very stars in the sky.

“Always,” was her reply, “You are the only thing in my life that I’ve ever gotten to choose. I choose you every time.”

Rick smiled. A beautiful thing that tried to hide the tears that had built in his hazel eyes. Then he gently pulled the blue box from her hand.

He took a nervous breath. “Oh, God — I’ve been carryin’ this thing around for six months, you know?”

“Oh.” Delphia’s heart melted just a little bit more. “That’s a long time.”

“I just — no time ever felt right or perfect — “

“Trust me, I know there’s no perfect time for anything.” She reached out and touched his cheek, his stumble was a bit longer than the last time she saw him, his skin a bit tanner. “But right now — right now seems pretty damn good.”

Rick smiled again and opened the box. Delphia didn’t even look inside it. Blue eyes, present and focused, remained on his face.

“Dee, baby girl — will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Delphia was certain what propelled her. What electricity coursed through her veins to make her crash into the man laying before her. She surged into him like the tide to the shore and embraced him with a searing kiss. She kissed him long and sweet and powerful. One of those kisses that felt like it was being hot ironed into her very soul. His strong arms circled around her waist and pulled her on top of him. Her fingers tangled into his hair. It was slow and warm and yearning and nothing else mattered because she was marrying Rick Flag.

When the kiss finally broke, Rick took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. It was beautiful. And she smiled when she remembered that it was one of the rings she had sent him a link to some six months ago. It was a delicate ring with a champagne diamond center, haloed by smaller diamonds in an art deco design. It was perfect.

“You’re stuck with me now, Flag.” She smiled against his lips.

“Not stuck,” he muttered back with a shake of his head, “Not if it’s you. I’d choose you every time.”

Delphia smiled, girlish and blushing, as she borrowed her face into his neck. The world was wider and more beautiful and held in her arms. She could feel his heart beating against her ear, his blood pulsating against her temple as she snuggled deeper into him. What futures possibly awaited them? She couldn’t wait to meet them — not in a vision — but as they came.

There was a knock at the door.

Delphia mumbled into Rick’s neck, “Who the hell is that?”

“Er — yeah, I know who it is.” He squeezed her waist to signal her to get up.

She rolled off of him with a furrowed brow. “Who?”

“Well, I — uh — “ He got up from the bed with a moan and a hand to his side. “Was gonna tell ya in the car. But then I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

Rick was going towards the door and Delphia followed curiously. Before they got to the door however, Rick turned and stopped them both with a guilty expression on his face.

“I — I kinda invited the rest of the team to stay at our place.” When her eyes widened he held up his hands in defense. “At least for one night. Come on, Dee, they saved my life.”

All Delphia really wanted to do was fuck her fiancé senseless and then sleep for the next forty-eight hours. But he was looking at her with such kindness and earnestness. He really just wanted to help out his friends. And who was she to deny him that privilege? Who was she to say no when she knew that if she opened her door to these criminals she genuinly would feel better for it?

So she relented with a sigh and a gesture towards the door for him to open it.

Rick smiled and gave her a quick kiss of gratitude.

On the other side of their door stood Robert DuBois with a dufflebag over his shoulder. And behind him was the rest of the team. Cleo Cazo with Sebastian on her shoulder looking sleepy. Abner Krill with a nervous expression etched into his long features. Harley Quinn waved with a wide smile when the door opened. And Nanaue stood at the back. Delphia wondered how they got the shark in there without anyone noticing.

“Come on in, guys.” Rick opened up the door fully and stepped aside.

“You have a lovely home,” Cleo commented as she came through the doorway.

Delphia quickly snapped out of the trance seeing all these superpowered criminals in her home put her in and got to work. This was her home. They were her guests. And if there was one thing that her adoptive mother taught her, it was how to be a good host.

“You guys must be exhausted,” she said as the door closed behind Nanaue. “I’ll go get some blankets and spare pillows. We do have a guest room if the girls wanna sleep in there. Rick, do you know where the air mattress is?”

An hour later and everyone was set up for the rest of the night and several extra-large pizzas were on their way. Harley and Cleo had the guest room. DuBois was on the couch. Abner had the air mattress. And Nanaue was apparently perfectly happy on the floor. It was a bit cramped, but their home had never felt so full before. Full of hope. This was these guys’ chance to do something better with their lives. Or, at least slightly better than a life of crime.

And Delphia and Rick, as they stood in the doorway to their bedroom and watched everyone settle in, seemed to have the same idea.

“What if we let them stay?” she asked quietly, arm slung around his waist.

“We are letting them stay,” Rick laughed.

“No. I mean, like — until they get back on their feet.” Delphia looked up at him with a smile. “All they need is a bit of guidance and love and care. We could give them that.”

Rick groaned as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “And I didn’t think I could love you any more.

“We may need a bigger house, though.”

A/N: would you guys mind sending in some requests for these two (and the Squad Family)? I'm just so obsessed with them and want to write more lol I don't write smut so please don't request anything like that. But I would just love some domestic fluff, found family bull shit.

Taglist (if you would like to be added please let me know!): @bbygrgu @vvola13 @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @witchygagirl

#rick flag #rick flag imagine #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #the suicide squad #the suicide squad spoilers #if i go im goin crazy #rick flag fic #dceu oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

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If I Go Universe - Finding the House (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: The apartment is starting to get cramped, so Rick and Dee go out on the hunt for a bigger place. However, the rest of the Squad Family has opinions on what it should be.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 2219

Warnings: none this is pure domestic fluff and found family yumminess, well....language and a sexy time mention but like that's it

Timeline: August 2021 (a month after part 2)

if i go masterlist

A/N: Requests are open for these two and the Squad Fam if you guys wanna send more in 🙈💕🥺 love you all long time

After only one week of having the entire squad in their two bedroom apartment, Delphia was starting to feel like she had no room to breathe.

During meals that she now had to find a way to cook for seven, they had to squeeze around the dining room table. Shoulder to shoulder and hands barely finding room to reach their plates. Nanaue simply had to sit and eat on the floor. Their living room was always a mess of lazing bodies and people arguing over what tv show they wanted to watch. There were literal rats under her feet sometimes.

Their guest room, now Cleo and Harley’s room, was already a blast of fresh color and bizarre decor. Delphia wasn’t entirely sure how the girls found time to hang it all up. Then again, they were both awake until the early hours of the morning doing who knew what and then sleeping in as late as possible. Somehow Harley had also snuck in a pitbull she named Bruce 2. That dog had also found Delphia’s soft spot when it came to puppy-dog-eyes and begging for food. Abner had burnt a hole in his air mattress and now had to sleep on the floor. DuBois groaned that the couch hurt his back. And to really top it all off — the one time Rick and Delphia had tried to have sex with all of them there, towards the end they had heard through the door:

“Guys, I think we’re getting to the good part!”

That had been the last straw for Delphia, who had far less patience for the squad than Rick did. It was going to take her quite a while to learn that these guys were “fucking idiots” as Rick liked to say, but that there was still good in them that just needed to be loved out.

And love them she certainly could do.

Even after a week, it was already getting easier. Cleo was gentle and sweet and loved to help around the house, especially with cleaning. Calling herself a real-life Snow White when she called the rats to help. Abner was still quiet and skittish, especially around Delphia, who he knew the least. But she was quick to find something he actually enjoyed talking about. High fantasy novels. There hadn’t been much else to do in his prison cell, so he read a lot. And as an avid reader herself they bonded quickly over similar tastes. Harley could talk about anything, quite literally, so she was honestly easiest to get along with. DuBois was the toughest shell to crack. Even after a week of staying in their home he barely spoke to Delphia. Only grunted out thank-yous when he was handed his food or asked her questions about where things were in the apartment.

Out of all of them, she was most determined to crack Dubois open like a damn egg.

So, when she was sitting in the kitchen early on a Friday morning and DuBois was literally the only other person awake, she thought it was a good idea to ask his opinion on something very important.

“Hey, DuBois, can you take a look at this?” she asked as she clicked on the link to one of the houses she and Rick had been looking at purchasing.

He was sitting at the dining room table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the help wanted ads. Out of all of them, he also seemed the most determined to find a real job. He looked at her over the rim of his coffee mug with raised brows. She smiled at him warmly and gestured at her computer. With a sigh, he got up from his seat and crossed the room.

“What?” he grunted as he came to stand beside her.

“I just want your opinion…On this — house.”

Now that he was standing there, she felt stupid for even saying anything.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you look like a guy who knows something about…Baseboards.” She glanced up at him with an awkward grimace and sighed. “Please don’t tell Rick I said that.”

“Oh, I’m gonna fuckin’ tell ‘im you said that.”

But with a sigh, he leaned in and looked at the pictures of the house anyway. He narrowed his eyes as Delphia flicked through them all.

“How’re you and Flag payin’ for this?” he asked as he took back up his coffee mug.

Delphia shrugged. “We’ve been saving up for a house for a while now. Plus with the retirement money, we’re kinda…Loaded.”

DuBois grunted, then he gestured at the screen with his cup. “That house is fuckin’ ugly, though.”

Deflating, she looked back at the screen with a furrowed brow. Oh. That was the one that she liked best. Well, shit. But now that she was looking at it again, he was probably right. The carpets were a bit garish. The kitchen cabinets were a horrible shade of green. The rooms were all set at odd angles with small closets. What had she been thinking?

While they had only been searching for a week, finding a house big enough for seven (one of them being a giant shark-man) that didn’t require a ton of work to be livable was proving difficult. They also didn’t want to stay in Louisiana either. They were looking at Virginia or North Carolina. Somewhere closer to Delphia’s parents, Gotham, and Metropolis. Their lease ended in only two months. They needed to find a new place to live and fast.

Delphia sighed, dismayed as she closed the tab and deleted it from her bookmarks. Well, time to keep looking.

“Mornin’,” Rick groaned as he came into the kitchen.

He stopped and gave Delphia a kiss on the head before pouring himself a cup of coffee and pouring in a substantial amount of cream. He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt. His hair was messed up and his face was still puffy with sleep and Delphia just wanted to dive across the counter and attack him with kisses. He had been her steady rock through all this. Reassuring, gentle, patient, and kind. When she got too stressed he would take over the cooking, even though he wasn’t very good at it. When she came to bed at night exhausted and on the verge of tears, thinking that she couldn’t help these people, he held her and told her that everything was going to be okay. That they were honestly made for this. It made her love him all the more.

This development in their lives was not what she had expected when they retired from Belle Reve. She expected world travel, a wedding, her going back to school, maybe even a baby if they wanted. Not starting a halfway house for super-powered criminals. But it felt good and right to be doing this work. Even if it had been only a week. Even if they hadn’t done much to set the squad on the right path. They were being cared for and loved and gently corrected and that was what they really needed so fresh from prison.

Just — being able to care for, love, and gently correct them would be a whole lot easier if they all had some personal space.

“Flag,” DuBois greeted, “Your girl says I look like a guy who knows about baseboards.”

Rick’s brow furrowed as he glanced between the two of them, leaned back against the counter with a mug in hand. Then his expression changed to understanding.

“You asked him to look at the house didn’t you?”

“Possibly,” she sang, “He didn’t like it.”

“What wasn’t to like?” Rick questioned.

“Fuckin’ ugly.” DuBois shrugged. “If I’m gonna have to live somewhere with the rest of these dickbags I’m gonna at least not wanna gouge my eyes out anytime I look at the floorplan.”

Rick cocked his head to one side in thought. “That’s fair. What do you want out of the house then?”

There was a gasp and then Harley burst into the kitchen, fully dressed, red lips freshly painted, and ready for the day. Delphia was surprised. She was never awake this early. Bruce 2 bounded into the room after her. Tongue hanging out and looking exceptionally happy to see everyone. Delphia got down from her stool and scooped out some breakfast for the boy, giving his head an affectionate pat.

“You guys’re lookin’ for a new house?” Harley asked excitedly, “It’ll obviously need a tennis court and an Olympic size swimming pool and — “

“No, no, no,” Rick butted in with a shake of his head, putting his arm around Delphia’s waist when she came to stand beside him, “None’a that. Just somethin’ simple and big enough for everybody.”

“Can we at least have a treehouse?” she asked, eyes wide and earnest.

“We��ll see if we can make it happen,” Delphia chuckled, leaning into Rick’s side.

Abner then poked his head into the kitchen. “I would request a library.”

“A beautiful backyard full of flowers!” Cleo chimed in sleepily as she trudged into the kitchen, Sebastian still asleep on her shoulder.

There was a distinct thud as Nanaue shoved his head and shoulders through the door frame. Then he shouted, “Pool!”

Pretty soon, the entire kitchen was overrun by a cacophony of sound. Arguments about what was more important. What colors people wanted their rooms painted. All the while, Rick and Delphia looked at each other and smiled. Well, at least the squad was invested. Rick quickly fetched a notepad and a pen and wrote down everything that the house needed to be in order to be perfect. Though he did end up crossing a few out in the end. Like a room entirely made of trampolines and an ax-throwing station. But out of the corner of her eye, she noticed DuBois silently slink out of the room and back out to the living room.

She gave Rick’s arm a squeeze as he listened to Cleo ramble about a tunnel system for Sebastian. He gave her a wink of encouragement then went back to listening intently. Of course, he had also noticed DuBois leave the room. That was one of his many specialties. With a sigh to gather herself, Delphia squeezed past Nanaue (who was still chanting the word pool over and over) and into the much quieter living room.

DuBois was sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV with his hands folded in his lap. Being brave, Delphia sat down on the couch with him, making sure to leave one cushion of space between them.

“Whadda you want?” he asked gruffly.

“What do you want out of the house, DuBois?” Her voice was gentle, her smile soft as she looked at him.

“Why would I care?”

“Because I’m not an idiot and I know that you do care,” she said, narrowing her blue eyes at him, “So tell me what the fuck you want or I’m gonna give you the smallest, ugliest room I can find.”

DeBois smiled. A small one that he tried to cover with a swipe of his hand. But it was at the very least a smile that Delphia had drawn from him. There it was. She had cracked the egg.

“I just — uh — I just wanna be close to my daughter. In Metropolis.” He glanced over at her and rolled his eyes. “That’s all.”

“I think we can make that happen.”

The following week Rick and Delphia flew out to North Carolina to look at a house that had almost everything everybody wanted.

And it really was a beautiful place. Up in the wooded mountains — secluded and quiet. White siding with multiple brick chimneys. The backyard was perfect. It had the flowers Cleo wanted, a brick patio, a pool, and even nestled further back on the property was a treehouse. Something Delphia was sure they weren’t going to get. Inside the house was even better somehow. One big, gorgeous kitchen, massive dining room, private bedrooms for everyone, plenty of bathrooms, it even had a library and a completed basement. It was everything they wanted and more. Plus, it was only a two-hour drive from Metropolis.

“Well — “ Rick wrapped his arms around Delphia’s shoulders from behind as they stood in the empty living room. “Whaddaya think, baby?”

She hung her hands on his forearms and sighed with a grin. “I think it’s perfect.”

He squeezed her just a bit tighter and bent his head to kiss the tip of her ear. “Are you sure this is what you want? Taking all these guys in? Last chance to back out.”

“I’m not backing out on this, Flag.” She shook her head. “You got me hooked on these fucking idiots and I can’t seem to let them go.”

With a chuckle, Rick spun her around in his arms and pressed his forehead to hers. This was it. This was the wide world she had felt when Waller told her to leave her office. It only took her this long to understand that the only wide world she needed was being held in Rick Flag’s arms.

“I fuckin’ love you, Dee.”

“Love you too.”

“Now let’s go make an offer on this damn house.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments, just let me know): @bbygrgu @vvola13 @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue

#rick flag #rick flag imagine #rick flag x you #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad fanfiction #squad family #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #the suicide squad #if i go universe #dceu oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

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Here is a masterlist for everything in this little world I've created! Where everyone lived and they all live together now. Because I'm in denial and also found family is a good trope. This includes an OFC of my own creation named Delphia Holman that is in a relationship with Rick Flag. In this universe, she and Flag have started up basically a halfway house for previous members of the Suicide Squad.

Currently requests are CLOSED (as of 10/26/21) for this universe, if you wanna send some into my ask box! I don't write smut so please none of that! But I'll take anything involving the squad family, an au, stuff that happened before Rick and Dee got together, anything!

On here, I am gonna try to put these in chronological order and include the next installments that are in progress, marked with an * (to keep myself accountable) so hopefully, it'll all make sense one day.

If you're wanting to start reading these in order I suggest reading If I Go, I'm Goin Crazy pt. 1 (first piece I wrote in this series) up until Delphia bumps into Rick in the hallway in order to get enough context for the rest of it!

Helpful Things:

A Quick Guide to the Squad Fam and Their Jobs

If I Go Universe:

April 2014 - The Night We Met

January 2015 - Greatest What If

June 2015 - Violence Be Gentle

June 2015 - Sorrow Be Kind

September 2016 - If I Go, I'm Goin' Crazy pt. 1

September 2016 - Is This Our First Date?

October 2016 - Miscommunication

December 2016 - 165th's Reunion Special

March 2017 - Birthday Breakfast

May 2017 - Move In With Me

December 2017 - Merry Christmas, Rick Flag

October 2018 - Greatest What If pt. 2

November 2018 - Sunburned Holiday

December 2019 - Frosty's Ugly Cousin

July 2021 - If I Go, I'm Goin' Crazy pt. 2

August 2021 - Finding the House

September 2021 - Take a Sick Day

October 2021 - Do The Monster Mash

November 2021 - Tapper's Arcade Bar

December 2021 - Snowball Fight!

December 2021 - Arose Such a Clatter

December 2021 - Merry Christmas, Squad

January 2022 - Girl's Day

February 2022 - Sebastian Knows

March 2022 - Let's Empty the Animal Shelter

April 2022 - If I Go, I'm Goin' On Fire pt. 1

April 2022 - If I Go, I'm Goin' On Fire pt. 2

April 2022 - If I Go, I'm Goin' On Fire pt. 3

May 2022 - Nightmares

June 2022 - Wedding Day

July 2022 - The Birthday Boy

January to September 2022 - Snippets of a Pregnancy

October 2022 - Losing Each Other In a Corn Maze

October 2022 - Dreams Come True

December 2022 - We're All Getting Coal

August 2023 - Baby's Day Out

2016 | 2019 | 2023 - Tattoos All In Black

December 2028 - Mommy Kissin' Santa Claus

Headcanons:

Splashin Safari

TaskForceX!Delphia AU:

Headcanons

i am not a woman, i'm a god

i am not a woman, i'm a god pt. 2

Breaking the News

Tattoo/Flower Shop AU:

Roses Are Red

Santa's Mailbox

Deadknight AU:

Make You See Red

Milk and Cookies

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

Text

If I Go Universe - Tattoos All In Black (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Rick has several tattoos, but there are three that he is particularly fond of.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 2320

Warnings: language, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff, too much love maybe, breastfeeding stuff

Timeline: 2016 | 2019 | 2023

if i go masterlist

2016

The mission had been a brutal one. Many team members died, they still failed despite their best efforts, and Rick had been injured — a stab wound to his side that had left Delphia sitting at the edge of her seat in the control room.

He was back home now, stitched up and resting in bed. Delphia had made sure to make him a healthy dinner, bringing it to bed for him. He smacked her hands away with a grin when she tried to spoon feed him, telling her he was fully capable of doing this bit himself. After she cleaned up the kitchen, she went back to the bedroom and put on one of his favorite movies. But neither of them really paid attention to the screen. As soon as she laid down beside him, Rick was pulling her to practically lay on top of him — right hand tracing over her back as he closed his eyes.

His left arm was propped up behind his head, keeping him in an upright position. Delphia’s eyes danced over his face, thanking whatever was out there that he was back home with her and safe. He was nearly like a renaissance panting. The way his muscles curved and caught the light, her eyes were simply drawn to follow. To trace the curve of his strong neck, down across his collarbone that she loved to kiss, up his tricep to his —

“What the fuck is that?”

Delphia scooted up his chest, eyebrows furrowed and mouth dropped open in confusion. He had a new tattoo. The skin surrounding the black ink was still pink and irritated. And it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever seen in her life.

“What? What?” Rick’s eyes suddenly snapped open, looking around the room like there was a threat he needed to eliminate.

She poked him in the arm, right on the tattoo that was so fresh it made him wince. “That! What the fuck is that!”

Still confused, he looked towards his inner arm and immediately blushed, eyes shifting to understanding as he looked over at her sheepishly. He had to admit, it wasn’t the best tattoo he had ever gotten. SKWAD in stark black ink, crooked letters and shaky lines, was now splattered across his inner bicep.

“A tattoo?” He tried to play it off.

“Uh — no, no, this is a new tattoo. When the hell did you get it and why?”

Delphia was not backing down, as he should have guessed she would. She got nose to skin with the tattoo and then looked over at him like he had lost his mind. The comedy of it was not lost on either of them, as giggles began to bubble out of each of their mouths.

“We had — We had some — “ Rick tried to speak around his laughter, coughed, then tried again. “We had some down time on the mission, got kinda drunk. Lawson practically dragged me into a tattoo shop and gave it to me.”

“Deadshot? Deadshot gave you this tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my God.” She looked back at it with a dumbfounded smile. “He didn’t even spell it right.”

Rick’s brow furrowed as he finally craned his neck to get a good look at his new ink. Something he had apparently not done until just now. He groaned loudly as he looked at it clearly for the first time, smoothing his fingers over the flesh and then flopping back onto his pillow.

“Son of a bitch.”

Laughing so hard there were literal tears streaming down her face, Delphia rolled onto her back beside him. Her legs tangled up in the sheets, her arms crooked up at her chest as she hid her face in her pillow. Trying so very hard to stop laughing but finding that she couldn’t. The situation was just too good to be true. Rick got drunk, let a criminal give him a tattoo, and hadn’t even taken the time to look at what had been permanently marked on his body until just now.

“God, that’s so fucking funny,” Delphia sighed as her laughter reduced to sparse giggles, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“You are such a little shit,” Rick chuckled as he pinched her side, forcing her to scramble away from him to the edge of the bed.

“What? I’m not the one who got something put on my body forever by a master assassin!” She smacked at his hand as he tried to pinch her again.

Rick lifted his arm and looked at the tattoo again with a sigh. “I still like it though. Reminds me of everybody we’ve lost. Keeps ‘em alive in some way.”

Delphia’s expression softened. “I can’t make fun of you for that.”

“Come over here,” Rick said with a smile, opening up his arms to her.

She instantly dove into him, snuggled into his uninjured side. Just like how she was always supposed to be.

2019

Delphia woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, the warm summer sun streaming in through their bedroom window. It was one of those mornings where she really didn’t want to get out of bed. The past week was tough at work. Waller was extra cranky and extra demanding, nearly pushing Delphia to the brink of tears even though her assistant was entirely used to her attitude. But despite the blankets pulling her in like quicksand, she managed to pull herself from the mattress and wander her way into the kitchen.

Rick was standing at the stove wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and nothing else. The sunlight from the living room window was splashed across his back, making his tan skin seem to glow in an ethereal sort of way that made her sigh. The muscles of his back worked this way and that as he flipped the pancakes and turned out the bacon. The man loved his breakfast food — always made sure she ate one before work. And today was no exception.

“Mornin’, baby girl,” his gruff, sleep soaked voice called to her over his shoulder.

“Good morning,” she whispered back as she tiptoed further into the space.

She was drawn to him like a moth to the flame. Knowing it would be the death of her but honestly? What a beautiful way to go. She didn’t go for the coffee like her body desperately craved, instead she went straight to Rick. Wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed him so tight it made a chuckle burst out of his lips.

“That rough, huh?” he asked, smoothing one large hand over her forearm as he checked the underside of the pancakes currently cooking.

All she could do was nod against his spine. She vaguly remembered coming home late from a meeting the night before. Rick forced her to eat something, she couldn’t even recall what, before collapsing into bed. Waller really had been testing her limits all week long. But it was done now. She no longer had to think about it. At least for another forty-eight hours, they were both free of Belle Reve.

It was comforting to feel the heat of Rick’s skin beneath her cheek, like a furnace burning in her arms. She made a noise nearly like a purr as she burrowed herself deeper into him, hands coming up to scratch lightly at his chest. Her eyes opened after a moment, content and relaxed for what felt like the first time in a long time.

And that was when she spotted it.

There, on his left shoulder, was her name scrawled across his skin in permanent ink. It had never looked so beautiful. As she looked at it, her heart was beginning to feel like it was too big for her chest — tears welled up in her eyes as her eye danced over the swirling letters. He really did love her, didn’t he? Loved her enough to have her name on him forever. Not even in a place he could see but so that everyone else would know that she had him, body and soul. With a breath to control her emotions, mostly her tears, she unhooked an arm from around his waist and brought the tips of her fingers up to trace the tattoo.

“This one’s new,” she whispered, sounding breathless.

Rick looked over his shoulder, a grin quirking his lips and one eyebrow raised.

“Like it?” he asked.

“I love it.” With a grin she planted a kiss between his shoulder blades. “You’re too sweet to me, Colonel Flag.”

“I don’t think I could ever be sweet enough, baby girl.”

2023

Infant wails rang through the midnight air. Delphia stirred in her deep slumber, brain barely able to register that her son was crying in his room down the hall. But soon enough, her body was kicking her into gear — swollen breasts leaking at the sound of her child calling out to her.

“Ah, shit,” she mumbled as she sat up in bed, blearily rubbing at her eyes.

For a moment she was confused. Rick wasn’t in bed. The covers on his side of the bed were thrown back and an indent left in his pillow where his head should be. She touched the sheets, wondering where he could’ve gone, and they were still warm. He hadn’t been up for long. Leo’s cries echoed anew, somehow louder and more distinct, and Delphia finally pulled herself from bed. He was probably hungry. At three months old he was guzzling down milk like it was his job. Which it kind of was. He was a big baby, a “chunky monkey” as Harley liked to call him, and he was only going to get bigger. He was healthy and strong and slept through the night and honestly Delphia and Rick couldn’t have asked for a better son.

Delphia thumped down the hall, still trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, but when she rounded the corner into the nursery she stopped. She couldn’t go a single step further, even though her breasts ached to feed her baby, because the sight before her was just too sweet.

Rick stood in his briefs by the large windows that overlooked the backyard, curtains pulled back to reveal the dark night sky. He held Leo close to his chest, swaying back and forth to try and get him to stop crying and go back to sleep. His efforts were valiant, but to no avail — Leo continued to wriggle and scream. Leo was a big baby, but he looked so tiny wrapped up in his father’s arms.

“Come on, big guy, your momma’s gotta get some sleep,” Rick muttered as he continued to rock and bounce the baby.

“Momma’s already awake,” Delphia spoke quietly as she walked further into the room.

Rick turned to her with apologetic eyes. “Sorry, baby girl. I tried.”

“S’okay — you don’t have the boobs he’s looking for.”

She smiled up at him softly as she pulled Leo out of his grasp, his open, crying mouth already seeking out her nipple to latch on to. Shushing him, she lowered herself into the recliner in the corner. She lifted up her damp shirt and Leo latched onto her breast easily. She remembered with dread those first few weeks where getting him to breast feed was a herculean task. But now it was as easy as breathing for both of them. Leo’s cries slowly turned to whimpers as he drank from her greedily.

“He did try it with me, though,” he said as he watched them.

Delphia looked up from Leo’s chubby cheeked face and smiled. “Really? Would’ve liked to see that.”

Rick chuckled softly with a shake of his head. “Mind if I stay?”

“Course not, baby.”

He settled down on the floor, back leaned against the recliner next to her legs, with a quiet groan. She remembered too, during the beginning when feeding Leo made her cry in frustration nearly every single time, that Rick always wanted to be there. He would grumble at her when she wouldn’t wake him up in the middle of the night for a feeding. He knew he couldn’t help much, but he wanted to be there in case she needed anything. She remembered him telling her once that as she struggled to get Leo to latch, as those frustrated tears streamed down her face and their son cried, he had never felt so useless in his entire life. So now, even when everything was routine and practically effortless, he still liked to be near when she breastfed.

Delphia watched her son for a moment, a tired smile crooking her lips as she let his little fingers wrap around one of her own. His grip was tight for only being three months old. A trait from his dad she had to guess. At that thought, she looked at the back of Rick’s head.

His hair was a mess, all tussled from sleep. One of his knees was bent, arm propped up on it as he gazed out the window to the stars outside. And it was there, bathed in pale moonlight, that she saw Leo’s name freshly tattooed into his right shoulder. It was simple and clean and purposefully placed near the top crest of his shoulder just in case there were more names to add.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she pulled her fingers from Leo’s grasp and traced the letters inked into her husband’s skin. Followed the line of each stroke and line. He didn’t flinch when she touched him. Rick simply turned his head to look at her with an earnestness and love that she felt right down to her very bones. It was the three of them now. Together — always.

“I love you, Rick Flag,” she whispered to him.

“Love you too, Dee.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins @hawsx3

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

Text

@loverhymeswith asked: Ok I have a request ☺️ I would love to know how Rick and Delphia meet for the very first time! 💕

If I Go Universe - The Night We Met (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Task Force X is finally getting it's feet off the ground, and Delphia is introduced to its first commanding officer: Colonel Rick Flag. Sparks instantly fly between them. But Delphia always had the bad habit of looking into the futures of people she has a crush on.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 4185

Warnings: language, fluff, a pinch of angst, yearning/pining/swooning, not necessarily a meet cute but they're cute and they're meeting

Timeline: April 2014

if i go masterlist

Delphia set down the little cactus on the top right corner of her desk, then she stared at it with a sigh and her chin resting in her hand. The poor plant had seen better days. There was tape and a toothpick keeping one of the arms on and there was a slight dent in the top. She supposed that was what happened when you moved to three different offices in the span of a year. You got a little dinged up along the way.

At least this office was better than ARGUS. There she had actually had to share an office space with Waller and that was never fun. The woman was a yeller when people weren’t giving her what she wanted and frankly, it made Delphia’s ears ring. But now, at Belle Reve, in the newly built administrative wing, she had her very own office.

Well, kind of. She had, at the very least, a desk in the waiting area for Waller’s office. And to Delphia that most definitely counted. The walls were a drab shade of light grey and there were a few cushioned wooden chairs along the walls. Her desk faced the door so she could greet Waller’s appointments and get them seated to wait for her, and Waller’s heavy wooden door was to her left.

Delphia readjusted the cactus one last time so she couldn’t see the broken arm, a way to lessen her guilt about breaking the plant her boss had given her. She wondered how long they were going to stay at this place. She assumed at least a few years. This entire project was Waller’s baby, an idea she had nurtured and planned through to the last detail. And each of those details she made Delphia look into the future over, just to make sure the procedures worked and that they were hiring the right people. So far everything was going well. But then again, they hadn’t even introduced the actual criminals into Task Force X yet.

The emergency phone over by the door suddenly ringing made Delphia jump in her seat. With a hand to her heart, she got up from her chair to answer it. The phone on her desk hadn’t been hooked up to the landline yet, which made Waller furious. So for now everyone was to use the emergency phones that in the future were to only be used to call the penitentiary security.

“Amanda Waller’s office,” Delphia answered the phone, shoulder leaned against the wall.

“Hey, yeah, this is Waits at the front gate. We’ve got a Colonel Flag who says he has an appointment with Ms. Waller.”

“Oh, yes, he’s her ten o’clock. Go ahead and let him in and we’ll pick him up from the waiting room. Thanks, Waits.”

“No problem, ma’am. See you in a few.”

“Yes, see you.”

She replaced the phone on the receiver with a clack. Another problem that made Waller exceptionally angery: the administration parking lot and entrance weren’t complete yet so all guests and staff still had to use the highly guarded and complicated main entrance to the prison. Delphia sighed and made her way over to Waller’s closed office door, rapping her knuckles on the wood lightly.

“Amanda? Your ten o’clock is here,” she said.

Waller yanked open the door and Delphia jumped back from the threshold as she walked through. “Who is that again?”

“Colonel Richard Flag, candidate for the commanding officer position.” Delphia handed Waller the file from her desk as they headed towards the door. “Current special forces. Had a run in with a metahuman in the Yucatan and was transferred to ARGUS.”

“Hmm, go ahead and set up conference room D. I’ll walk him up alone — get a read on him. He’s the one you said would be most successful, right?” Waller stopped in the hallway, file tucked under her arm.

Delphia shrugged. “Potentially.”

“At this point, I’ll take potentially,” Waller sighed, “Make sure my powerpoint’s up and ready when we get there.”

“You got it.”

The two women went their separate ways. Delphia walked down the long hallway, the walls still unpainted and some light switches still being wired. But at least conference room D was complete and already filled with the proper furnishings. If it wasn’t, she was sure Waller would’ve had somebody's head about not having a room to meet in.

Humming quietly to herself, Delphia made sure that the powerpoint was already up on the TV screen and the clicker was on and working for Waller to use. Then she set out a notepad and pen at the conference table, just in case the Colonel wanted to write down any notes or questions. And lastly she set up her own laptop at one of the chairs along the wall so she could take ample notes throughout the course of the interview for Waller to go over later. A common routine as of late, considering the Colonel was the third man they were going to interview for this position. Not that the other candidates hadn’t been good, they all just got spooked at what they were trying to do here. And Delphia really couldn’t blame them.

The idea of the Task Force was insane and had a high possibility of not working. But Waller was sure that her plan would work. As long as they had a good and highly skilled commanding officer on their side.

And Waller really didn’t understand why Delphia couldn’t just tell her who they were going to hire. Delphia tried to tell her, multiple times, that that just wasn’t how it worked. The flow of time was vague and interpreting its outcomes was a crapshoot at best. If there was a full plan and guarantees, then yes, conclusions were easy to see. But this was vague, too many variables at play. When she looked into the future of the Task Force, using what little information they had, all of her visions were transparent and glimmering. Not solid and realistic like most of her visions were. At this point, the timeline branched off in too many directions for her to see which one was the true path. It frustrated Waller that her psychic was so unhelpful in this situation, but Delphia could only shrug it off as time being a finicky little bitch.

The door to the conference room opened and Delphia immediately got to her feet, straightening out her skirt so she looked as professional as possible in front of the Colonel. Waller walked through the door first.

“Thank you,” she said.

And then Delphia’s heart stopped.

Or maybe it was going too fast? She really couldn’t tell. All she did know was that was not how she expected Colonel Flag to look. She thought a man much older would be walking through that door, having convinced herself that the photograph included in his file was dated. But clearly it was not. He was tall, broad, and as tan as the sun was long. He was wearing his combat uniform, SPECIAL FORCES stamped onto the left breast pocket. Her eyes widened as they trailed up his frame and landed on his face. The expression he wore was jovial despite how hard his exterior seemed to be, but she couldn’t deny the beauty in it. Even with the severe military cut and slightly ridiculous goutee and mustache. Their eyes caught, and Delphia looked back to the floor quickly. She needed to get a grip, he wasn’t that cute.

She glanced back up at him one last time. Oh, Jesus, maybe he was that cute.

“Colonel Flag, this is my assistant, Delphia Holman,” Waller introduced.

Flag stuck out his hand first, giant and calloused. Delphia wrapped her own, smaller hand around it tentatively. His handshake was firm and it hurt slightly when she pulled away. But she couldn’t help but linger on how warm his skin felt, how it felt like electricity shot up her arm when he touched her. She flexed her hand at her side, an attempt to get a sense of normalcy back to her fingertips, and she hoped that no one noticed.

She cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiled at her, a small boyish grin that had her cheeks flaring. The slight southern drawl of his deep voice caught her off guard. “Delphia — where’s that from?”

“It’s — uh — it’s Greek.”

“Never heard it before.”

“Most people haven’t — my dad did some archeological work in Delphi, so he thought it was appropriate.”

“I agree with him.” Flag grinned again and Delphia thought it was way too hot in that conference room. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Delphia’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Jesus Christ. Her tongue felt too big in her mouth. Her insides felt heavy like stones. Her face and neck were on fire. And he was just looking at her with that little grin, and suddenly his tongue poked out to lick his bottom lip as he huffed out a laugh. It was like she was standing too close to the sun, caught in it’s orbit, she wanted to get away in fear of getting burned but it was too warm to leave.

“Colonel Flag, you can take a seat,” Waller suddenly said from behind the podium, “Delphia’s only here to take notes.”

Right. Waller was here. They were in a conference room attached to a prison full of the world’s worst. For a moment there, it felt like all of that had disappeared.

“Yeah, just — er — pretend I’m not here.” Delphia retreated away from him and back to her chair.

She caught eyes with Waller, who gave her a raised eyebrow look. Delphia only smiled tensely back.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Delphia sunk into her seat thankfully, resisting the urge to fan at her hot skin as she placed her laptop in her lap. She stole one last glance at the Colonel as Waller started her presentation. He was completely focused on the screen behind Waller. Fingers crossed together in his lap and brow slightly furrowed as he paid attention. It was too much to look at him, overwhelming with thoughts of that hand wrapped around hers and those lips quirked in a grin. Delphia shook her head and looked back down to the blank document open on her screen.

She really needed to focus.

Waller had come back from the interview the day before without even needing to look at Delphia’s notes. Colonel Rick Flag was perfect for the role and actually willing to take it. Delphia had to wonder why, though. Had he grown weary of his placement in the military? Was he looking for something new and challenging? Maybe that was it. She had to imagine that no one who didn’t like skimming too close to death and driving themselves nearly mad would take this position. But Flag thought he could make it work, and Waller was over the moon that somebody finally said yes.

So Colonel Rick Flag was invited back for a second interview the following day. And Delphia really couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled in her chest at the prospect of seeing him again, of seeing him every day at work for that matter.

As she went home that night and made her meal and went about going to bed, her mind constantly wandered to those few moments they shared together. To what it might be like to see each other in the halls, get coffee at the same time in the breakroom, or even attend meetings together where they may by chance sit next to one another. It felt stupid and childish but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop wondering if maybe, just maybe, he was having similar emotions — wherever he was.

Delphia sat at her desk, typing up an outline of how a meeting Waller had next week with the Lousiana Senator was going to go. Including exactly what the Senator was going to say and how he was going to respond. A defined and solid moment in time because Delphia knew the subject matter and everything about who was going to be attending the meeting.

The emergency phone ringing across the room made her jump out of her skin again.

She rushed to answer it and said, “Amanda Waller’s office.”

“Yep, Waits at the front gate here. Colonel Flag is back for his two o’clock.”

“I’ll let her know and someone’ll be down to get him from the waiting room shortly. Thanks, Waits.”

“No problem, ma’am.”

Delphia knocked on Waller’s door. “Amanda? Colonel Flag is here.”

“Shit,” Waller’s muffled voice responded, “Can you get him, Delphia? I’m on the phone with the president.”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

She pressed her hands to her cheeks as she shuffled out the door and down the hallway. She could already feel how warm they were and she hadn’t even laid eyes on him yet. Jesus, she needed to get it together and act professional. She was thirty years old for crying out loud. She wasn’t supposed to get stupid crushes like she was still in high school. Right?

Colonel Flag wasn’t in his military uniform today. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, leather boots worn with time and a dirty baseball cap over his head. He somehow looked even hotter with that on than the uniform. Delphia smiled, uncontrollable and attempting at a professional greeting, as she walked into the waiting room of the prison. But as she got closer, she felt her stomach tie up in knots and threaten to force bile up her throat. There were tattoos poking out of the sleeves of his t-shirt and he was holding two cups of coffee as he sat in the plastic chair he barely fit in.

“Colonel Flag, nice to see you again,” Delphia greeted as she stopped just beyond the waiting room door.

Flag looked over at her and instantly smiled. He got up from his seat and came over to her. It had only been a little over twenty-four hours and she had completely forgotten how he towered over her, even if she was wearing heels.

He handed over one of the paper cups. “This’s for you.”

“Oh.” She took it with warm cheeks but an unsure smile. “Um, sorry that Waller’s not here — she’s on a call with the president.”

“Eh, I suspected you’d be the one to pick me up this time anyway.” Oh. So he had gotten the coffee with her specifically in mind. “Wait — hold on. Like, the president?”

Delphia wrapped her hands around the paper cup and steered them around towards the administrative wing door. She waved at the guard to let them in and they walked through the doorway with ease.

“Yeah, that gets dropped pretty casually around here a lot. Waller has many friends in high places.”

Their footsteps echoed in the unfinished hallways. Filling in the silence that had fallen between them. Delphia desperately tried not to feel awkward. But she just couldn’t help it. It felt like she was back in high school. Running an errand for her favorite teacher with her crush from class, which she would later find out that that teacher did on purpose. Which made a completely different thought dawn on her.

Did Waller do this on purpose?

Waller never did anything without purpose, without some other motive. She even admitted to giving Delphia that stupid cactus in order to keep her loyal. Which she really didn’t have to do, Delphia actually enjoyed working for the woman despite her cold and demanding nature. But what could Waller’s motive possibly be for this? For encouraging…something between them?

Delphia took a sip of the coffee Flag had bought her as she thought. But then spluttered when the taste of it hit her tongue.

“What?” Flag laughed over the lip of his own cup, “Is it shit? It’s from my hotel so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“No, no — it’s okay. It’s okay,” Delphia insisted, taking another drink of it for emphasis.

Flag looked at her skeptically. “You sure?”

“It’s just, um…” She looked towards the ceiling, praying that she would just sink through the floor already and get away from this awkwardness. “I drink my coffee black and uh…there’s alotta cream in here. Just surprised me is all.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

There was going to be a next time? Delphia thought as he opened the office door for her and let her walk through first.

Sheepishly, she told him to take a seat and Waller would be out in a few minutes. It was tortuous sitting in the same room as him. She tried to just go back to her work but he was sitting right there. He took the closest seat to her desk and Waller’s office. He just sat there and sipped his coffee and scrolled on his phone. He wasn’t even really doing anything and yet it was the most distracting thing in the entire world.Her eyes constantly flicked over to him, only being able to type out a few words before having to stop and just stare at her fingers — poised over the keyboard but her brain anywhere else but this meeting write up.

“So, uh — how long’ve you worked for Waller?” Flag suddenly asked.

Delphia couldn’t tell if she was grateful, excited, or terrified that he was talking to her again. Maybe all three at once?

“Twelve years,” she replied.

“Oh, wow.” He blinked in surprise. “That’s longer than I expected.”

She shrugged, picking up her coffee cup and holding it close to her face to feel the warmth radiating off it. “Started working for her right out of high school, so.”

“Y’must like it a lot,” he said.

“It’s a job. Pays the bills. Takes me to some exciting places.”

Flag leaned forward, elbows on his knees and a grin on his face. “Like where?”

“We went to Jamaica last year for some conference or other. Week long too.”

“Get to spend any of it on the beach?”

Delphia felt her neck heat up in embarrassment. “We were given...Free time to see the sights each day, yeah.”

“Nah, nah, nah — you’re holding back somethin’. What? What’d you do?” He grinned and Delphia rolled her eyes.

“I…” She tried to lie. She really did. But she found it was impossible looking into those hazel tinted eyes. “I took historic tours of Port Royal and Nassau, okay? Learned about pirates. Because I’m a huge fucking nerd.”

Delphia slapped her hand over her mouth with a gafaw at her language slip. She always tried to remain strictly professional with her tongue in the office. But sometimes….sometimes that mouth like a sailor could not be contained. Flag only stared at her with an open mouthed smile and a laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Holy shit, Holman,” he chuckled, “Didn’t think you fuckin’ had it in ya.”

That night, when Delphia went home, she could not get her mind off of Colonel Rick Flag no matter what she did. As she made her dinner her every thought was on him, so much that she overcooked her pasta. As she watched some mindless TV her mind buzzed with the fact that he brought her coffee. And even as she laid down and tried to go to sleep that night, she was restless.

She tossed and turned but her brain just wouldn’t shut off. All she could think about was that boyish smile. Those gentle hazel eyes. The way that shirt stretched over his biceps. How easy it was to talk to him once she got past the awkwardness. How kind he had been. How she was going to get to see him everyday now that he was officially signed on with Task Force X.

What would it be like to run into him in the halls? Would she get the opportunity to bring him coffee and remember how he liked it? Would she get paired up with him for projects Waller wanted finished? Would their hands accidentally brush as they passed off paperwork?

Delphia groaned as she shoved a spare pillow over her face. She needed to get to sleep. Waller wanted her in the office bright and early in the morning to put together a bunch of new hire packets for the office staff. But it seemed that her brain wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew, definitely, that her crush on Colonel Flag would end up going anywhere at all.

A terrible habit she formed in middle school and always had the intention of quitting. But every single time she even felt the tiniest spark with someone, she always had to see. She always had to make sure that he was the one, that she was meant to end up with him. So she would quietly slip into the future, all her thoughts trained on her crush and their love life, and she would see who they end up with. Every single time it wasn’t her. And every single time she got her heart broken and swore she would never do it again.

But then the cycle would repeat itself, and she couldn’t stop herself from just taking a quick peek.

“Ugh, fine,” she hissed into the darkness.

Smoothing out her comforter, it didn’t take much concentration for all of her thoughts to be on the Colonel. Then suddenly her vision was overcome with white, and she was looking at an entirely different place entirely. Far in the future.

Most of Delphia’s visions were solid, realistic. Like she was standing right in the moment, observing everything that happened. But that was only if the variables were set in stone, if there were guarantees, if a full plan was laid. And apparently, Colonel Flag’s love life, or maybe his life in general, was too vague. There were too many variables at play, his timeline branched off in too many directions for her to see which one was the true path. So what she saw before her was only a haze, a transparent, glimmering shadow of a future that may or may not happen.

She stood in the foyer of a big house with nice wood floors, a grand staircase to her right. After a moment, Colonel Flag walked through the front door. He was older, that was certain. But he was still wearing that same dirty baseball hat and worn leather boots. He was thicker now, and he had shaved that ridiculous facial hair. But he looked tired, worn down from a day of doing who knows what. But his face instantly perked up just as the sound of small, pattering feet reached Delphia’s ears.

She looked towards the doorway into one of the other rooms and a small child was running in. Even through the glimmer she could tell that the child had stark white hair and a pair of jean overalls on. He couldn’t have been older than five.

“Daddy!” the child screamed excitedly as the Colonel got down on one knee.

“Hey, big guy!” Flag laughed as his son crashed into his waiting arms.

He lifted the little boy easily, pressing a kiss to the child’s forehead as he got back to his feet.

“Missed you today,” the little boy said.

“Missed you, too.” Flag grinned. “Where’s your mom?”

The child pointed from whence he came and Flag followed his directions with a smile. Delphia followed curiously. She still didn’t have the answers she was looking for. Was she the one he was looking for in this big house? Was she the mother of that child?

Her hopeful heart instantly deflated when she walked into what appeared to be the kitchen. Flag still had his son perched on his hip, and in the other arm he held against his chest a woman with bright white hair. She didn’t see her face, but it was enough to know that it definitely wasn’t her.

Disappointed, Delphia blinked and she was back in her darkened bedroom.

He wasn't the one. She wasn't the one for him. So to spare her feelings, she decided to avoid him all together.

Colonel Rick Flag made it very difficult to avoid him, though. He was kind and friendly and anytime he had to come have a word with Waller he always made sure to stop at her desk to chat for a few minutes. Tried as she might to beat back her growing feelings for the Colonel with a stick, it seemed useless. It seemed she was destined to swoon over the man like a teenager.

And as the weeks went on and her bottled up misery continued, she came to a conclusion. Even if she wasn’t meant to be with him, even if that woman with white hair was going to come along eventually — it was better to spend at least a little time with Colonel Flag than none at all. And it wasn’t like she was going to make a move on him. Whatever happened, happened, and she wasn’t going to stop it.

No, she wouldn’t stop it at all.

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