#every frame of him shoving that big mac in his mouth

[a-magical-evening]

"It's just a little sunshine."

🍔🍟

[#4 Fave Trey Moment 💕 Companion set: Top 5 Treys]

#trey parker #my stuff #i am nothing if not entirely predicatable! #trey and food #this clip is MY little bit of sunshine #every frame of him shoving that big mac in his mouth #love this bit in 6 days to air though #when he's like hey lemme show you my legos #and then watch me talk about how lonely i get writing #and how i reward myself with treats #then it's uh oh trey's gone missing where's trey? let's go on a mission to find him #tortured creative my love XD #fave trey moments

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch24: Like The Old Man Said…Together Part 1- I Wouldn’t Call It A Comfort

Summary: The Avengers track Ultron and it’s a race against time before the AI can put his plan into action.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW) violence and crazy assed robots. Oh and “Something dramatic, I hope!”

A/N: This chapter now contains additional content which is why It has been split into two parts.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: Another massive big up for @angrybirdcr​ for her edits xx

Chapter 23 Part 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“I’ve put the boys to work.” Laura gestured out of the window as Katie chewed on her grilled cheese. She’d had a good four hours sleep and was feeling much better after a scalding hot shower. She glanced across the lawn area to where Steve and Tony were positioned at the side of the house, both holding an axe, stood by a stack of large logs and two piles of smaller logs.

“You got Tony doing manual labour?” Katie grinned at her. “Well played.”

Laura chuckled and then began to chat to about her plans for dinner. “Clint suggested comfort food. fried chicken and Mac and Cheese to be specific”

“You’ll win Steve over instantly.” Katie leaned against the counter. “I’m happy to help, lot of people to feed, not to mention Stevie eats enough for three.”  

“You wanna take her up on that.” Clint walked into the kitchen and opened a drawer near the door.“She’s a damned good cook is Nova. Obviously, not as good as you, babe.” He added as a quick afterthought. “Smooth Barton…” Katie laughed as Laura threw a tea towel at his head. Easily catching it ant tossing it back, he pulled a tape measure from the drawer and left through the backdoor, still laughing, the kids trailing behind him.

Katie stared at the back door as it shut, the normality of the scene suddenly hitting her. He had a wife, two children, and still managed to hold down the ridiculous lifestyle the Avengers and SHIELD demanded.

“How do you do it?” She blurted out. The woman placed the last plate on the sink to drain and straightened up. “I mean this, it’s so ordinary.” she turned, once more looking out of the window. She watched Steve swing his axe, his light blue Under Armour skin top clinging to every part of his torso.

“It’s possible…” Laura mused, standing behind her as she followed the younger woman’s gaze. You know, to have a domestic life…well, a variation on one, away from the mess.”

“Problem is the pair of us are tangled in the mess.” Katie muttered, not taking her eyes off Steve.

“Well then, you should understand each other more.” Laura pointed out, before she changed the subject. “Here, they could probably use a drink. You wanna take ‘em that jug of ice tea for me?”

“Sure.”

A minute or so later Katie crossed the lawn with a tray sporting a full jug and two glasses towards where both men where stood by the decreasing mound of large logs and the two increasing mounds of smaller ones.  Steve’s pile of cut logs was significantly bigger than Tony’s, which was hardly surprising.

And the pair of them were bickering which was also not surprising.

“Is that a problem?” Steve asked, picking the two halves he had just cut up and throwing them onto his pile, bristling slightly at the fact Tony was digging into why he wasn’t as affected by the Maximoff’s visions as everyone else. Truth be told he had been affected, big time, but since he and Katie had talked it through he felt better. But he wasn’t about to tell anyone that, frankly it was no ones’ business what any of them had seen bar their own.

“I don’t trust a guy without a dark side. Call me old fashioned.” Tony shrugged

“Well let’s just say you haven’t seen it yet.” Steve glowered at him, his temper starting to rise. He couldn’t help but feel pissed at Tony, because if it wasn’t for him they wouldn’t even be in this mess.

“You know this is what he’s trying to do right?” A soft voice spoke and Steve turned to see Katie setting a tray of drinks down behind them. They both turned to look at her “Ultron is trying to tear us apart.”

“Well I guess he’d know.” Steve jerked his head in Tony’s direction “Whether he tells us is a bit of a question”

“Banner and I were doing research-”

“That would affect the team” Steve picked up another log. His voice was gaining momentum, and Katie let out a groan, she knew he was getting angry.

“That would end the team” Tony said simply, “Isn’t that the mission? Isn’t that the “why” we fight, so we can end the fight, so we get to go home?”

Without so much as a huff of noise, Steve ripped the log he was holding apart with his bare hands in a fit of temper that aroused Katie far more than it should have done. Tony raised his eyebrows slightly and Steve’s chest heaved as he regained his composure. He turned to look at Tony and spoke, his voice calm and measured.

“Every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die. Every time.” He spoke softly but sternly, trying to make his point. Loki, Hydra, SHIELD with Insight.. now this.

“I’m sorry. Mr. Stark,” Laura headed across the lawn towards them all. “Uh, Clint said you wouldn’t mind, but, our tractor, it doesn’t seem to want to start at all. I thought maybe you might…

“Yeah, I’ll give her a kick.” Tony smiled at Laura then as he turned to leave he looked back at Steve delivering his next line with the air of a petulant child “Don’t take from my pile.”

“You know if he wasn’t your bother…” Steve reached for a glass of tea, draining it in one and leaving his sentence hanging. Katie took a deep breath and stood up.

“Cut him a bit of slack yeah?” Her eyes flashed. “The Maximoff girl. She got to him too.”

Steve looked down at her and frowned, that was news to him. “But I thought…”

“It was the day we found the sceptre.” Katie said. “She got to him in Strucker’s lab only he didn’t know what it was at the time. And you wanna know what he saw?” her voice wasn’t angry but she levelled Steve with a look that left him with no uncertain terms she was defending her brother “He saw us all dead because he hadn’t tried hard enough.” Steve inwardly groaned as she finished. “That’s what Ultron is about, that’s why he started it again.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” Steve shook his head, gently

“Well now you do.” Katie shrugged and decided to change the subject, “Oh, and by the way, what you did with that log back then-” she mimed pulling something apart. “-kinda turned me on a hell of a lot more than it should.”

He grinned and stepped towards her, closing the short distance they were apart “Well, if we go back inside I can…”

“Nice try, you have wood.” Katie pointed the logs

“Yes and I’d kinda like to do something about it!”

“Steve!” Katie spluttered out through her laugh, as she hit him in the chest, mentally making a note toe have words with Sam for teaching him innuendoes and street slang

He stepped back, laughing and rubbing at the spot where her hand had connected with him. He cocked his head playfully to the right, and was about to say something else about the fact he was feeling pretty horny on account of it being a few days since they’d last enjoyed one another seeing as his plans for her and that tight blue dress had been interrupted post the party, but Katie’s attention was taken by something else.

“Lucky!” She grinned crouching down to pet the dog who was jumping all over her, giving out little barks. “Man you got big!” Steve looked down at his girl and the sandy coloured dog, frowning as he noticed it only had one eye.

“Is this the pizza eating puppy you talked about?” he asked, bending down to pet the dog. “Sure is.” Katie grinned standing up as the dog ran off back to Barton after he whistled. “Not so much of a puppy now though.”

She smiled and made her way back over to the house. Steve looked at the pile of logs, then her, then back and picked up his axe again.

Inside, Katie started to help Laura with the dinner, the pair of them working together easily. Steve and Clint joined them in the kitchen not long after, both men sitting at the table with a beer as Lila scrambled up onto Steve’s knee, Steve waving away Clint’s instruction for her to leave him alone, he didn’t mind one bit. Katie had noticed the small girl sat there, talking to Steve and she’d smiled and turned back to her cooking. She was just rinsing off the salad when she looked up out of the window, seeing something that she really wasn’t expecting.

“I don’t believe it.” She whispered as she watched Tony and the tall, bald headed man with the trench coat and the eye patch walking up the path towards them. She turned to Clint and Steve “We got company, boys.” Both men stood up as the door opened, Lila jumping of Steve’s knee. The soldier’s hands went to his hips, his mouth forming a thin line as his eyes fell onto the man in front of him.

“At ease Soldier…” Fury said, a smile creeping across his face as Tony walked into the room behind him muttering about traitors, Maria Hill and ‘Goth Pirates’

****

“Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time.” Fury said glass of water in his hand as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “My contacts all say he’s building something. The amount of Vibranium he made off with, I don’t think it’s just one thing.”

“What about Ultron himself?” Steve asked, he was stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the door frame, arms folded.

“Ah. He’s easy to track, he’s everywhere. Guy’s multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit. Still doesn’t help us get an angle on any of his plans though.”

Tony shoved the last piece of the chicken he had been eating in his mouth and walked to the sink to pick up a towel to wipe his hands. “He still going after launch codes? “

“Yes, he is, but he’s not making any headway.���

Katie frowned from her seat at the table, opposite Natasha. “Well that doesn’t make sense. Tony cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school for a dare”.

Tony smiled fondly at the memory. That had earned him an ass whooping and a half from his dad.

“Yeah, well, I contacted our friends at the NEXUS about that”. Fury continued

“NEXUS?” Steve questioned.

“It’s the world internet hub in Oslo” Banner explained, he was stood behind Natasha leaning against the sideboard. “Every byte of data flows through there, fastest access on earth.”

At that point Lila ran into the room, a piece of paper in her hand.

“So what’d they say?” Clint asked, turning 3 darts over in his hand from his stance a few feet away from Fury.

Lila handed the piece of paper to Natasha, who looked at her, then the paper, grinning and gave the little girl a one armed hug. She placed the paper down on the table and Katie noticed that it was a watercolour paint picture of a butterfly.

“He’s fixated on the missiles.” Fury drained his glass of water. “But the codes are constantly being changed.

“By whom?” Tony questioned. At that point Clint threw the darts straight past Tony, about an inch or so away from his ear straight into the bullseye of the dart board. Tony spun round to glare at him, Clint shrugged apologetically, grinning at the same time. Hawkeye by name, Hawkeye by nature.

“Parties unknown.” Fury said, a puzzled tone to his voice

“Do we have an ally?” Katie asked.

“Ultron’s got an enemy, that’s not the same thing.” Fury looked at her “Still, I’d pay folding money to know who it is”

“I might need to visit Oslo, find our unknown.” Tony pondered, to no one in particular.

“Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you’d have more than that.” Natasha sighed, leaning back in her chair.

“I do.” Nick looked round the room. “I have you.”

Everyone shared a look round the room at one another. None of them were feeling particularly useful if truth be told.

“Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else.” Fury continued “Yet here we all are, back on Earth, with nothing but our wit, and our will to save the world. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard.”

“Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk.” Natasha looked at him.

“You know what, Romanoff? “ Steve’s tone was dead pan. She smiled mischievously.

“So what does he want? “ Fury continued.

“To become better. Better than us.” Katie looked around.

“Right, he keeps building bodies.” Steve agreed

“Person bodies. The human form is inefficient, biologically speaking, we’re outmoded.” Tony mused “But he keeps coming back to it” 

“Yeah, when you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed” Katie sighed, looking over at Tony then to Bruce, who was looking at Lila’s drawing over Nat’s shoulder, his arms folded, a thoughtful look on his face.

“They don’t need to be protected, they need to evolve.” The Doctor said, not looking up. “Ultron’s going to evolve.”

“How?” Fury asked.

“Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?” Bruce glanced around the room.

There was a pause, and then all at once there was a flurry of activity. Tony whipped his phone out and began to dial, Nat and Katie both stood up, Clint hurried out of the kitchen and Fury was also talking to someone as Steve and Bruce began discussing the intricacies of what Ultron was likely to want Helen for, which centred around the regeneration cradle, a larger version of the technology that had healed Clint after he had been shot when retrieving the sceptre.  

“If Ultron is really building a body…” Steve trailed off as they all prepared to leave,  his voice dropping

“He’ll be more powerful than any of us. Maybe all of us.” Katie sighed.

“An android designed by a robot” Tony finished.

“You know I really miss the days when the weirdest thing science ever created was me.” Steve raised his eyebrows. Katie and Tony both smiled gently.

“I’ll drop Banner off at the tower. Do you mind if I borrow Ms. Hill?” Fury said, pulling on his trench coat.

“She’s all yours, apparently.” Tony shrugged “What are you gonna do? “

“I don’t know. Something dramatic, I hope.”

Katie found herself slightly concerned that the threat of Fury doing something dramatic didn’t worry her half as much as facing Ultron.

*****

Clint expertly piloted the Quinn Jet low enough for Steve to drop onto the roof of the U-GU-Gin Genetic Research Lab roof.

“Two minutes. Stay close.” Steve instructed as the jet roe again to hover above the building away from any eyes.

A few moments passed and then the crew on the jet heard Steve shout “Dr Cho…are you hurt?”  There was a bit of a conversation which they didn’t hear, but then Helen’s voice came over the comms loud and clear, if a little strained.

“The gem, its power is uncontainable. You can’t just blow it up. You have to get the Cradle to Stark.”

There was another pause before Steve’s voice spoke clearly ”Did you guys copy that?

“We did.” Clint said.

“I got a private jet taking off, across town, no manifest.” Katie read the details on the computer screen in front of her. “That could be him.”

“There!” Clint said loudly, pointing out of the front window of the jet. Both Natasha and Katie moved so they could follow his gaze. “It’s the truck from the lab. Right above you, Cap. On the loop by the bridge.”

The jet scanned the truck, confirming their suspicions with the imaging that they all saw on the monitor.

“It’s them.” Clint continued. “I got three with the Cradle, one in the cab. I could take out the driver”

“No.” Katie instructed. “If what Helen is saying is right, that truck crashes, the gem could level the city.”

“We need to draw out Ultron” Steve spoke on the coms. They all waited for a further update and, thirty seconds or so later, there was a loud bang and he followed up his commentary. ”Well, he’s definitely unhappy! I’m gonna try and keep him that way.”

Katie looked down to see Steve was clinging onto the back of the truck and her heart skipped a beat. Making a decision she strode to wing space of the jet and pressed her palm to the pad besides the large locker that contained her suit.

“You’re not a match for him Cap…” Clint said

“Thanks Barton!” Steve replied, sarcastically.

“We need to get down there, give him some back up…”  Katie called, turning round to look at Nat as she stepped backwards, allowing her suit to form around her.

“Ok.” Clint said, nodding “I’ll give you the cover up top.”

Nat took off her headset and joined Katie in the equipment store, pushing a small coms piece into her ear. She headed to the back of the ship, straddling the motorbike that was propped up at the side.

“He’s lost his shield. I’m gonna drop you as close to it as I can.” Clint advised as he flipped a few controls.

“Roger.” Katie continued with the final checks to her suit, without JARVIS she was flying this thing herself, just as she had been at Klaus’ base so she needed to make sure everything was right. Clint steered them down towards the road.

“We got a window. Four, three…give ‘em hell.” Clint said, pushing the button for the ramp. Natasha sped the bike off and dropped down with a squeal of tyres before taking the jet higher.

“Us girls are always picking up after you boys.” She said gently and Katie headed to the back of the ramp, her scans watching as Natasha picked up Steve’s shield, following Clint’s commentary.

“They’re heading under the overpass, I’ve got no shot”

“Which way? “ Nat asked.

“Hard right… Now.” Clint instructed. Natasha did as she was told. As Clint hovered over the top of them Katie shot out from the back of the jet and swooped down just as Natasha threw the shield up to Steve. Steve caught it and instantly flung it, sent the AI flying backwards. Ultron wasn’t down for long, jumping up and resuming the fight as Katie landed behind the Robot as he sent a blast of power at Steve, who instantly held his shield up as he was catapulted backwards onto the bonnet of the car behind. She fired a repulsor at the AI, causing him to turn his attention to her as he wheeled round and shot back. She flew out of the way as the shot hit the car behind, the screeches of brakes and grinding of metal hit her ears as cars collided on the road.

“You Starks are like insects.” Ultron hissed out. “Annoying and irritating.”

“Yeah well, some insects pact a bit of a sting.” Katie shot out a static pulse from the shoulder of her suit. It immobilised Ultron for a good few seconds, which was long enough for Steve to climb back onto the top of the truck, hitting him once more with his shield. As Ultron fell forward towards Katie she jumped up, kicking out with her boot, pushing him down into the metal of the truck before landing.  Ultron regained control of his functions and the three of them began to fight, Steve and Katie dodging the rays of power as they flew at them, Ultron easily deflecting the beams the Supernova suit sent his way.

“Clint can you draw out the guards?”  Nat’s voice came over the comms.

“Let’s find out.”  Clint replied simply.

Katie fired another static pulse towards Ultron, but he easily deflected it and shot once more at her as she spiralled away.

“You think I’d let you get me with that again?” he growled.

“No but, made you look.”  She grinned, and at that point Clint shot the jet downwards and it fired off a few shots at Ultron, deliberately missing the delicate package the truck contained. It worked and as Katie watched 4 Ultron Sentries fly out and follow the jet upwards. Ultron turned and flew at Steve who spun, slamming him into a concrete pillar by the side of the road. Katie swooped in, firing again but Ultron was ready and caught her with a beam causing her to spin blindly through the air.  With no JAVIS to help, it took her a while to regain control but eventually she righted herself just in time to see Ultron spear at Steve, the two of them crashing into a nearby moving train. She shot forward, putting all her power into her thrusters, speeding up to catch it.

"Heading back towards you, whatever you’re gonna’ do. Do it now.” Clint informed over the coms as Katie dropped down so I was level with the train, looking into the windows.

“I’m going in, guys can you keep him occupied?” Natasha questioned as Katie finally caught up with the right carriage to see Ultron sending Steve flying again, landing hard against a metal door.

“What do you think we’ve been doing!”  Steve grit out, shaking his head, as once again he stood up, and resumed his fight with the AI as Katie shot a beam through the window, catching the robot unawares and causing him to fly out of the side of the train.

As she flew in through the window, the AI came crashing through one a bit further up and the two of them shot at one another, the beams hitting in mid-air and deflecting off one another, blowing a hole in the roof of the train.

“The package is airborne.” Clint informed us, “I have a clean shot.”

“Negative I am still in the truck.” Natasha said.

“What the hell are you doing?” Katie yelled, as Ultron sent a bench of seats towards her, which she blasted out of the way.

“Just be ready, I’m sending the package to you, Clint!”

“How do you want me to take it?” Clint asked sarcastically as Katie looked up through the hole in the roof to see the truck way above them.

“Uh, you might wish you hadn’t asked that.”

At that point Katie was floored as Steve landed heavily on top of her, having been blasted off his feet by Ultron.

“Ow…” he muttered, rolling over and off the top of her. Katie groaned as her head bounced off the inside of her metal helmet and hadn’t even had chance to right herself when suddenly she was lifted off her feet as Ultron’s hand crushed at the neck of her suit.

“Like I said, insect.”  He growled, his grip tightening as she raised both her palms to fire, blasting them both backwards, in opposite directions as Katie crashed into the carriage behind. She sat up and shifted the debris and shot forward, as Ultron came again but he was sent backwards as a blur knocked him off balance- the male Maximoff twin. Ultron took a menacing step forwards and the metal guards shifted red and bent in front of us in a protective manor. The female, Wanda, stood behind Ultron, hands outstretched and glowing red. Ultron turned towards her.

"Please, don’t do this.” Ultron pleaded with her.

“What choice do we have?” Wanda countered.

Ultron turned back around and fired in Steve’s direction. Katie was quicker though, pulling him out of the way as the front of the train blew out. The AI then blasted out the side door and escaped.

“We lost him!” Katie said into her coms, face plate sliding back as Steve made his way to the front of the train, reaching over the driver. “Clint, Nat He’s headed back towards you.”

“Nat we gotta go!”  Clint said.

Steve turned back to Katie, shaking his head, he could find no pulse. The driver was dead and the train was out of control heading straight for the end of the line.

“Nat… NAT? Cap you guys see Nat?” Clint questioned worriedly.

"If you have the package, get it to Stark! Go!” Steve commanded, looking up instinctively as Katie reached his side.

“Do you have eyes on Nat?" Clint questioned once again.

"Go!” Steve ordered once again and it seemed Clint obeyed because there was silence on the other side of the coms. Katie looked at him, both of them worried about our friend but equally knowing they had to tackle the problem in hand. The train crashed through the stoppers at the end of the line and carried on, heading straight through the narrow streets.

“There are civilians in our path.” Steve turned to Pietro, once more resuming command. He nodded and sped off in a blur.

“Can you stop this thing?” Katie asked Wanda. She looked unsure but nodded and blasted red tendrils down into the underlining of the train.

It began to slow, but nowhere near enough for them to avoid the building they were heading straight at. Katie slid her face plate back and Steve held his shield out in front of them, protecting them from the impact, and they felt the train starting to slow down, before it eventually came to a steady stop a moment or so later in a street lined with small trading stalls and shops.

As the passengers scrambled to get off the train Steve and Katie remained where they were for a second, Katie’s face plate once more retracting.

“You’re bleeding.” Steve said gently, wiping at her brow.

“Least I’m still here.” She shook her head. “What about Nat?”

“We’ll find her.” He took a deep breath, looking her in the eyes. “I promise.”

He slung his shield onto his back and the pair of them exited the train. Katie spotted Wanda stood next to her brother who was resting against a wall breathing heavily, hunched over with his hands on his knees. As they approached he looked up at Wanda, waving her away

“I’m fine, I just need a minute.” He assured her.

“I’m very tempted not to give you one.” Steve snapped, giving the twins a hard look. The two Maximoffs shared an uneasy glance

“The cradle? Did you get it?” Wanda asked.

“Stark will take care of it.” Steve told her, his tone still clipped.

“No he won’t.” Wanda said incredulously.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Katie glared at the girl

“He will do anything to make things right.” Wanda implored.

Steve turned and gave Katie a questioning look before he spoke into the coms.

“Stark come in. Stark? Anyone on coms?” The only response Steve got was silence. He looked at Katie who tried as well, getting nothing but static. She then tried to route through her phone, but there was nothing there either.

“Ultron can’t tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it.” Wanda pressed “Where do you think he got that from?”

Katie took a moment to look around, squinting against the sunlight. People were gathering, chattering in Korean and pointing at the train stretched down the middle of the road.

“I saw into his head.” Wanda implored. “I saw what he has planned. It’s not what he said, not what he told us he wanted.”

“Oh and what did he say he wanted?” Katie asked, turning back to her, her arms folding across her chest.

“He said he wanted peace” the boy, Pietro spoke.

“Oh, well…” Katie snapped, looking round nodding and clapping her gauntlet clad hands together sarcastically “Good job”

“Look…” Steve stepped forward a little before his girl lost her temper, his hands grasping the buckle on his utility belt. “This isn’t about sides, or what’s happened before. It’s about how we shut Ultron down.”

“So, what happens now?” Pietro asked.

“That depends on you.” Steve answered, putting his shield on his back, keeping his stance non-confrontational. “You’ve worked with Ultron; you know how he thinks. We could use the help stopping him.”

Wanda snarled, lips curling back over her teeth. “We won’t work with Stark.”

“Well, you kinda have two options.” Steve retorted immediately, before Katie had chance to. The authority emanating from him was immense, his eyes steady. “You work with us, or work with Ultron. Your choice.”

Katie looked up at Steve as the twins both exchanged glances. Eventually she got fed up and sighed.

“I’m going back to check on Dr Cho.” she looked at Steve “And then I’m going home to figure out how we find Nat…”

“Katie… wait…” He started towards her as she turned, making to walk off up the narrow street

“I’m done waiting Steve.” She snapped, turning to look at him. “And seeing as you don’t seem to want to give things a second’s thought, why should I?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” He frowned, running to catch up with her.

“You work with us?” She imitated his voice. “How do you know that she isn’t in our minds, right now, and this isn’t some elaborate scam to get us right where Ultron wants?”

A breeze whipped her hair slightly, and Pietro stood at Steve’s side, Wanda in his arms.

“You move too slow.” the young man taunted looking at them. “We’ll meet you at Cho’s office.”

Katie let out a loud groan of annoyance and walked and out onto the main road, looking around. Steve took a deep breath, she was angry, he knew that. His girl held a grudge, far better than he ever could and he had a feeling that Wanda Maximoff wasn’t going to get round her with a simple apology. But they didn’t have time for that, they needed to get home, find Nat and figure out Ultron’s next steps. And the Maximoffs would be helpful.

Sirens were now flooding his ears and the Emergency services were all over the place, freeing people from the cars, crashed buses, you name it.

“Could use a ride.” Steve turned to her, raising an eyebrow. She glared at him for a moment, before sliding her face plate back down. Without saying a word she gripped his harness at the top above where it held his shield and propelled them both into the air.

Dr Cho was going to be ok. Thankfully. The Scientist kindly offered them the use of her QuinJet, which technically belonged to Tony anyway, but they were grateful nonetheless. As Katie thanked the man who had led them to it, Steve turned to the Maximoff twins.

“Go on.”

Katie felt her mouth drop open as Wanda hesitated and looked to her brother who simply nodded and the two of them boarded.  Katie watched them incredulously before she rounded on Steve and he winced, awaiting the barrage which hit him full pelt.

“I can’t believe you seriously want to take them back to base.” She hissed at him.

“I told you before, they can help.” He replied calmly.

“You’re out of your mind!” Katie shook her head, the petulant child in her well and truly rearing its head “You know what actually, if they’re going, then I’m staying here.”

“For God’s sake Katie…” Steve groaned exasperatedly, running his hand through his hair, his helmet hanging in his left hand “You’re being unreasonable…”  

“I’m being unreasonable?” She rounded on him, her cheeks flushing with anger. “You’re the one who wants to take them right into the middle of our base, give them access to all our technology, when we don’t know if they’re still working for Ultron or not!”

“Katie, just get on the fucking jet now.” Steve’s voice was low, but he was angry.  He didn’t have time for this shit, he was tired, worried, and just wanted to get them all together so they could find Nat and end this and she was behaving like a total brat.

Katie looked at him, his eyes were flashing and he had a look on his face she couldn’t ever recall him using on her before. It was enough to shock her into compliance, but only after she shot him the dirtiest glare she could, before she stormed onto the jet.

Two hours later and Katie still hadn’t spoken a word to Steve or anyone else for that matter, she was fuming. Pietro and Wanda had been mostly silent up until that point, exchanging the odd bit of chatter between themselves in Sokovian, but neither approaching either of the other two until Pietro came to the cockpit.

“Miss Stark, I’m sorry, but please, do you have a spare jacket? My sister is cold.”

Katie glared at him, then looked to the back of the jet where Wanda was sat on one of the chairs, her knees pulled up to her chin. Damned it, despite everything Katie felt a small pang of pity for her.

“Sure, just give me a second.” She answered, a little gruffly but less angrily as she stood up out of her seat.

Steve had to smile, despite everything she wasn’t callous, and she knew what it was like to be cold and frightened. Katie glanced down and caught the look he was giving her and she glared at him.

“I will slap that smirk right off your face.” She threatened. Immediately he held his hands up, palms facing her in an “I’m sorry” motion and she walked over to the back of the jet and started looking in a few of the cupboards. Eventually she found a black fleece jacket, emblazoned with U-Gen logo, along with a blanket. In one of the other cupboards she found bottles of water supplies along with some snack bars and bags of chips.

“Here.” She walked over to Wanda and handed her the jacket and fleece.

“Thank you.” The teenager pulled the fleece around her.

“You hungry or need a drink?” Katie offered.

They looked at one another.

“I’m not going to poison you.” She rolled her eyes.

Wanda nodded and Katie handed her a bottle of water and Pietro took a granola bar from her and a bag of chips. Katie glanced at the twins and then suddenly had to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue.

“Why do you hate us so much, the Avengers?” She blurted out. Steve turned his head slightly so he could listen in.

“I don’t hate the avengers. I hate you and your brother. Well I did. I don’t know maybe I still do.”

“But why?” Katie said, puzzled “You don’t know us?”

“Our home was bombed.” Wanda said, looking at her hands “It hit 2 floors below and blew a hole in our floor. Our parents fell but Pietro grabbed me and we rolled under the bed.” “The second one hits.” Pietro continued gently “But it doesn’t explode. It just sits there, three feet from our faces. And on the side of the shell is painted two words…” “Stark Industries” Katie swallowed, suddenly understanding. “You know we shut the arms side of the business down once we both realised the damage it was doing. I know that doesn’t absolve us of any guilt but…my brother is a good man, maybe he doesn’t always get it right but he tries.”

“But that is my point.” Wanda pressed “Ultron…he wants world peace, but he thinks the way to do that is to kill people, innocent people.”

“That’s not what Tony wants” Katie pressed

“But he created Ultron.” Pietro joined the conversation

“Yes, because of you!” Katie implored.

“Sorry, because of us?” “You made him see something, in Strucker’s lab. A vision, a vision that showed all of the Avengers dead, the world ending and Tony was left alone because he didn’t try hard enough to stop it.” At that point Wanda and Pietro exchanged glances as she continued “You made him believe he needed to do something, something more and Ultron was the result. He was supposed to be the thing that Tony thinks we need, something to bring peace…”

“You know, maybe we aren’t that different to Stark after all.” Pietro broke the moment or so silence that had descended. “I mean, we volunteered for HYDRA.”

“They said that they would make us super-human, like your Captain America over there.” Wanda sipped her water and Steve’s eyes flickered over the back of the jet for a moment before he turned back to the front. “Then we could fight…”

“They didn’t say what it would cost.” Pietro spat. “The experiments. The constant pain.”

“Guess we all made bad decisions for what we thought were the right reasons.” Katie shrugged “What matters now is how we fix this mess.”

With that she left them to it, taking her drink and one for Steve to the front of the jet.

“Thanks.” he said gently

“I assume you heard all that.”

“Super sensitive hearing, Doll, what can I say?” He smiled. She rolled her eyes. “You still pissed at me?” She raised her eyebrow at him, and with a teasing note chastised him. “Language.”

Steve smiled, reached over for her hand and drew it up to his face, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles before he let go and took a drink of water, before he glanced back out of the front window of the jet.

An hour or so later they managed to get through to Clint on the coms.

“Any news on Nat?” Katie asked him.

“I’m trying the old fashioned way. That should avoid Ultron. I’ll find her”

“I don’t doubt it Hawkeye.” She smiled.

“What about Stark and the cradle?” Steve asked.

“In the lab with Banner, why you ask?”

Katie glanced at Steve, his jaw set tightly but that was the sum total of the reaction from him. He didn’t want to voice what was on his mind and risk pissing her off even more. Instead he chose his words carefully.

“Just… well, the twins told us what’s in that Cradle and Ultron’s plans for it. I’m worried Tony could start something he doesn’t understand.”  “Twins? The Maximoffs?” Clint asked and then he let out a groan “You’re bringing them here aren’t you?”

“You gotta trust me on this one, Clint.” Steve sighed “They’ve seen Ultron’s end game. They want to help us fight him.” “Yeah well I’ll make my own mind up on that one, I’ll see you when you get back.” “Great…” Katie sighed “Now he’s pissed as well.”

**** “I’m gonna say this once!” Steve’s voice was loud

“How about "nonce”?” Tony shot back.

“Shut it down!” Steve pointed at the cradle.

“Nope, not gonna happen.”  Tony shook his head.

There had been a bit of a fight in the lab, shields being flung, repulsors fired, and then Thor had turned up, supercharged the cradle, and it had gotten even stranger when a red man, an android had emerged.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, in JARVIS’ voice “That was, odd. Thank you.” He added nodding respectfully to Thor, before his unnervingly human-looking eyes trailed over Thor thoughtfully. Then he rolled his shoulders and a cape of his own appeared and flowed down his back.

“Thor, you helped create this?” Steve asked

“I’ve had a vision, the world, where it starts, all hope and life and at its centre, is that.” Thor responded pointing to the gold stone in the middle of the man’s forehead.

“What the gem?” Banner asked in confusion. Thor nodded.

“It’s the mindstone,” He explained. “One of the six infinity stones, the greatest power in the universe and it is unparalleled in its destructive capabilities.”

“Then why would you bring it to life?” Katie asked, taking a deep breath, folding her arms.

“Because Stark is right.” Thor said.

“Oh, it’s definitely the end of times.” Bruce sarcastically to Tony’s shocked but proud expression.

“The Avengers cannot defeat Ultron.” Thor continued and the red man politely cut in.

“Not alone.”

“Why does your vision sound like JARVIS?” Katie questioned still cautious of this new being.

“We reconfigured Jarvis’ matrix, to create something new.” Tony walked up towards his masterpiece and examined him.

“I think I’ve had my fill of new.” Steve replied sarcastically.

“You think I am a child of Ultron.” The red man stated rather than asked.

“You’re not?” Steve replied suspiciously still glaring.

“I am not Ultron.” He answered simply. “I am not JARVIS. I am…” He looked down at his hands as if they would hold the answer.

“I looked in your head,” Wanda stated stepping towards him. “I saw annihilation.”

“Look again.” Vision responded in the same simple tone.

“Ha, her seal of approval means jack to me.” Clint snorted, Katie found herself inclined to agree.

“Their powers, the horrors in our heads, Ultron himself, they all came from the mindstone.” Thor said, looking round “And that is nothing compared to what it could unleash, but with it on our side-”

“Is it?” Steve cut Thor off then turned aiming his next question at him towards the red man, needing to hear confirmation “Are you, on our side?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” Vision answered truthfully.

“Well it better get real simple real soon.” Clint said seriously.

“I am on the side of life,” Vision continued, “Ultron isn’t, he will end it all.”

“What’s he waiting for?” Tony asked.

“You.” He stated easily, looking around at us all.

“Where?” Katie pressed.

“Sokovia.” Clint supplied helpfully. “Yeah, he’s got Nat there too.”

Katie looked at Clint who raised his eyebrow slightly and he shrugged. He’d found her, just like he said.

“If we’re wrong about you,” Bruce said approaching the man. “If you’re the monster Ultron created you to be…”

“What will you do?” The red man asked and Bruce stayed silent.

“I don’t want to kill Ultron, he is unique, and he’s in pain,” Vision paced slowly around the room, “but that pain will roll over the earth, so he must be destroyed. Every form he’s built, every trace and presence of him. We have to act now. And not one of us can do it without the other.”

He turned back to look at everyone in the room individually, then he did something completely unexpected as he picked up Thor’s hammer from the table. Steve felt his eyebrows raise in shock whereas Katie was looking at Thor, her mouth open, the god was wearing a look of utter confusion.

“There may be no way to make you trust me, but we need to go.” Vision finished holding out the hammer for Thor to take. Thor took his weapon back and the man walked away.

There was a moment of silence before Thor coughed.

“Right, well done.” he said awkwardly patting Tony on the shoulder and followed the red man out of the room.

“Three minutes, get what you need.” Steve announced.

**** Chapter 24 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #the avengers #chris evans #chris evans characters

[snowdice]

When There Is Something Left (Part 13-Final of the Series “Is There Anything Left of Patton?”)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton, Virgil & Patton, Logan & Virgil, Roman & Patton

Characters:

Appear: Patton, Logan, Virgil, Roman, Remy

Summary: A garden blooms the next spring.

Notes: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Patton is a zombie, happy ending

This is the last part of this story, but likely not the last part of this universe. Stay tuned for Bonus Features coming out sometime soon. As well as a few extra scenes.

This is the twelfth part of a series of one-shots called Is There Anything Left of Patton?

Previous parts:

“Something Left”

“Someone You’ll Never Meet”

“Food You’ll Never Eat”

“Things You’ll Never Do”

“There Are Things That Are Lost”

“There Are Things That Are Missing”

“And There is a Question”

“Is There Anything Left of Patton?”

“And There is an Answer”

“But What Does It Mean”

“One More Dance”

“One More Chance”

My Master Post

Virgil walked into the kitchen one day in mid-April and paused at the door. Patton was the only on in the room. He was standing at the stove cooking, and it wasn’t macaroni and cheese.

“Hey Pat,” Virgil greeted softly after a moment. Patton hummed in response, and Virgil walked to the counter to pour himself a cup of already prepared coffee. His eyes looked over at what Patton was doing; he’d cracked some eggs into a bowl and was whisking them with an actual whisk. As far a Virgil knew, that thing hadn’t been touched since Patton turned as both Logan and Virgil were too lazy to go through the effort of finding, using and cleaning it. (Roman and Remy were even less likely unless Roman had used it as a microphone to sing Disney songs.) He seemed to be doing fine with it, so Virgil turned to leave him be and sit at the table. It was already set, he noticed and there was a pitcher of what looked like orange juice sitting in the center.

He froze halfway there when a voice called out to him. “Virgil?” Patton asked. Virgil knew Patton could speak for real now. Logan had told him that Patton would speak regularly, but he’d only done it when he and Logan were alone. Other than the one “yes” a year ago that had confirmed Patton still actually existed in there, that was the first thing Virgil had ever heard him say.

Virgil had a feeling he shouldn’t make a big deal about that fact. “Yeah Pat?” he asked instead.

“I’m making omelets, but I don’t trust myself with the deer sausage in the refrigerator. Would you mind doing that part for me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Virgil replied. “Of course.” He grabbed the Tupperware container of cooked deer sausage while Patton poured some of the egg mixture into the pre-heated pan. He waited for the eggs to cook a bit before reaching for the cheese and sprinkling a bit over the top.

Then, he took a step away from the pan. “Now,” Patton said.

Virgil opened the Tupperware container of meat. Patton did a full-bodied twitch and pressed his lips into a line, but he didn’t reach for the food. After a moment, he nodded tightly, and Virgil put a bit of the meat on the omelet before shutting the container tight again. Patton was stiff when he moved forward to close the omelet but relaxed marginally when the meat was concealed. He let it cook for a few more minutes and flipped it before putting it on a plate and covering it with another one to keep it warm. He smiled at Virgil and Virgil smiled back.

They repeated the process a few times. Patton’s reaction to the meat was the same every time, but he seemed to be able to handle it. When Virgil wasn’t busy spooning the meat on for Patton, he started making toast.

Logan entered the room when Patton was folding the last omelet and stopped in the doorway. “Good morning,” he said softly.

“Morning, L.”

“Virgil and I made omelets,” Patton said.

Logan promptly forgot Virgil was in the room when he heard Patton’s voice speaking at that volume. He smiled, looking sickeningly bestowed and crossed the room. He hugged him around the waist, leaning his head on Patton’s shoulder. “I can see that,” he replied.

Patton smiled at the touch and bopped him on the nose with the spatula in his hand. “Distraction,” he accused.

“Hmm,” Logan replied into his neck, getting a giggle in return.

“Disgusting,” Virgil commented. “I’m going to go get the others.”

He left them there and made his way to the study, shoving his way into the room past the mattresses that took up most of the space. Remy was already awake on his bed sewing something. Apparently, he’d been in the kitchen already, because he had a cup of coffee next to him. Roman, on the other hand, was still sound asleep in bed. Virgil walked over and kicked him lightly on the foot.

“Wake up,” he said. Roman mumbled something into his pillow. Virgil kicked him harder. “Wake up. Patton cooked us breakfast and you’re going to eat it.”

“I done wan da macaroni,” Roman complained into his pillow.

“It’s not mac and cheese,” Virgil said.

Roman tilted his head to squint up at him.

“Just come and see,” he said.

Roman rolled out of bed after a moment and got to his feet. He stretched while Remy set down the fabric in his hand and then they both followed Virgil to the kitchen.

“Ooo, omelets!” Roman exclaimed, taking a seat in his chair. Apparently, Logan and Patton had managed to resist being mushy for long enough to bring the omelets and toast to the table and set them out for everyone.

Roman started stuffing his face without hesitation, and Virgil rolled his eyes, taking his own seat at the table.

“This is really good!” Roman said, his mouth still full of food.

“Thank you,” Patton replied as he moved to sit down himself.

Roman blinked over at him, his mouth popping open in surprise. Remy reached over to close his mouth for him.

“Good day, Patty?” Remy asked.

Patton nodded, staring intently at his omelet. He reached for his knife and fork and took a bite of his omelet. The tension was clear in his frame.

“You can just eat it Pat,” Virgil said kindly. “No one will judge you.”

Patton mumbled something under his breath and took another pointed bite. Virgil wondered how much effort it took him to not eat food when it was right there in front of him. It looked hard, but he did manage for today at least.

Virgil thought it probably helped that Roman distracted him by blabbering on about the chickens and giving an update on his progress learning the songs in the guitar song book Remy had found.

Patton didn’t say a word through the entire meal, but once all the food was gone, he looked up. “I want to see the garden,” he said to Virgil.

Virgil’s eyes flickered to Logan. They had agreed months ago that it wasn’t a good idea to let Patton go outside in case he got confused, but… things had changed. Slowly, but surely, he had more and more good days and today was a very good day.

“Sure, Pat,” Virgil replied. “That’s fine.

“The three of us will clean up breakfast since you two cooked,” Logan offered. He leaned forward to kiss Patton on the cheek. His eyes flickered between Patton and Virgil. “We’ll be working at the other house if you need me.”

“Okay,” Patton agreed, squeezing his hand before getting to his feet.

Virgil got to his feet as well and offered a hand to Patton. He took it and let Virgil lead him to the back door.

They both stopped when they stepped outside and Patton took a breath, looking out at the garden. “It…” he said softly. He walked down the steps and to the edge of the large garden. Virgil wasn’t done planting everything yet, but many things were planted and the areas that weren’t had been sectioned off and labeled with little signs. “It looks the same,” Patton said. “You even kept my signs.”

“Of course,” Virgil said. “You knew what you were doing, and it didn’t feel right to change anything.”

Patton shook his head and smiled at him ruefully. “You didn’t even know me, Virgil.”

Virgil shrugged and looked at the garden. Things were growing well. The lettuce had been growing quickly this year, and he needed to harvest some more of the rhubarb soon. The asparagus was also starting to come up. They’d be eating well the next few months if everything went to plan. He glanced over at Patton.

“Want to help me today for a bit?” he asked. “I’m planting some potatoes and it would be nice to have someone help dig the rows.

Patton smiled at him, his eyes alight. “I’d love that,” he answered. So, Virgil went and got him one of the hats in the shed (even though he wasn’t sure if zombies got sunburnt), a pair of colorful gloves, and a trowel. Patton took them and, without hesitation, knelt down in the dirt.

Logan stepped out of the second house a few hours after breakfast, leaving Remy to continue moving the furniture in the living room space around to his heart’s content. The house was coming along and should be ready by the winter. They still had a lot to fix, but the first floor was almost livable by now and the fence Logan had erected around the home was up to his standard.

Roman was out back cooing at “The Ladies” and congratulating the things on laying “so many good eggs last week.”

…

Did… were there 5 chickens now? When had Roman found a fifth chicken?

He ignored it for now and walked over to the edge of the smaller fence looking over into the garden behind his house. Patton was there in the garden on his knees, finishing digging a long trench. Logan felt himself smile and walked over to the gate they’d put between the two yards.

“Hi!” Patton said when he caught sight of him. He peeled off his gloves and got to his feet.

“Hello dear,” Logan replied, carefully rubbing a bit of dirt off his cheek. Patton smiled back at him. The sunlight cast soft shadows on his face and his skin felt less cool to the touch than it usually did. Logan’s heart felt incredibly full as Patton leaned his face into Logan’s palm. After a moment, Logan looked around and frowned. “Where’s V-”

“Oh, hell, no!” Virgil said, coming out of the shed with a large bag. “You get the hell out of our garden”

Patton giggled as Logan glared at his friend. “It’s okay, Virgil. I know how to make sure he doesn’t ruin anything.”

Virgil gave them both a skeptical look. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll trust you Patton, but if he destroys-”

“I’m not going to destroy anything!” Logan defended himself.

“I promise, it’ll be fine,” Patton said, laying a quelling hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“Alright,” Virgil agreed. “Fine,” he lifted the bag in his hands and gave Patton a considering look. “You good with the potatoes?” Virgil asked. Patton glared at him. “What? You eat raw meat! Don’t act like I’m being unreasonable.”

“I’ll be able to manage,” Patton promised, and Virgil handed him the bag which Logan saw was filled with pre-cut seed potatoes. Patton turned to Logan. “Come on, my honey bae,” Patton said with a wink. Logan groaned even though that line filled him with nothing buy affection. “Let’s go plant some veggies.”

Logan followed him to the end of the first row and frowned. The rows were not straight or evenly spaced, he noted. Before they could even think about planting something, they needed to…

“The rows are fine, Lo,” Patton told him.

“But…”

“The row goes with the flow of the soil,” Patton said and then pointed the trowel in his hands at him like it was a weapon. “No measuring sticks.”

Logan grumbled about it but forced himself to let it go. He knelt next to Patton in the dirt and grabbed one of the dried potato pieces in the bag. Looking at it, he wasn’t sure if it was good enough. It only had one potato eye when really it should have at least two, preferably three. Not to mention how irregularly it had been cut. Had Virgil not been paying any attention? He should…

“It’s fine, Logan,” Patton said as he placed down his fifth potato piece, barely even looking at it.

“But this one isn’t good enough,” Logan pointed out.

“Logan,” Patton gasped like he’d just insulted a five-year-old child. “Don’t be mean.”

“To the potato?”

“Yes,” Patton said, already getting the next seed potato out of the bag. “Now apologize.”

“To the potato?”

Patton paused in his planting to give Logan a severe look.

Logan sighed and looked at the potato. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling ridiculous.

“Now tell it you love it,” Patton instructed.

Logan looked up at him. “I love you,” he said.

Patton’s nose crinkled up. “To the potato, silly!”

“Ah, yes, I’m the silly one,” Logan replied before looking down at the potato. “I love you.”

“Now kiss it!”

“Patton.”

“If you kiss it, you can kiss me,” he tempted.

Logan kissed the potato and then set it in on the ground without thought. He leaned forward to kiss Patton soundly on the lips. (A quiet voice in his head reminded him that such an action was likely foolish even if it hadn’t killed him before, but he brushed it away. He wasn’t dead yet.)

“Good job,” Patton said and then moved to cover the seed potatoes with his trowel.

They had made it all the way down that row and the next two before Virgil returned. He had a container full of lettuce under his arm. “Wow,” he said. “You two are making good progress. And Logan hasn’t even dug up something he’s not supposed to yet.”

Logan blushed. “I thought they were weeds,” he grumbled.

“That’s why we have to get to know our plants,” Patton said, holding up a piece of potato to Logan’s lips. Logan distractedly kissed it before he thought about what he was doing.

Virgil almost bent over double cackling. “Is that why your face is dirty, Logan?”

Patton seemed to have no remorse for what he’d just done. Instead, he plopped the just kissed potato into the ground and started covering it up with dirt.

Virgil was still chuckling. “I’m going to take this inside and then look at harvesting some rhubarb. You two okay to finish the rest of it?”

Patton sent him a thumbs up, already getting to work on the next row.

They continued in that way with Virgil walking back and forth to the kitchen with different harvested plants every so often. Eventually, they ran out of space to plant and Patton sat back on his knees to look over the rows of potatoes he’d just planted. He was covered in dirt. There was a large smudge of it near the side of his eye and a lighter one across the bridge of his nose. His freckles, which Logan hadn’t clearly seen in years, popped out a bit in the sun. There was a small smile on his face as he looked at what he’d accomplished over the last few hours. Assuming Patton truly had been able to counteract Logan’s lack of a green thumb, the ground there should spring to life soon. Logan couldn’t wait to see his face when it did.

Virgil wandered over too look with them, placing a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “How’re you feeling Pat?”

How was he feeling? Patton thought. His hands were covered in dirt despite the gloves he’d been wearing as he worked all morning. He was in his garden which had bloomed without him the last two springs. Except it hadn’t, he thought, his eyes on the sign in front of the quickly growing lettuce. He couldn’t read it, but he knew it said, “Romain Calm.” The garden hadn’t bloomed without him completely. Virgil had managed to keep a part of Patton in it, at least a little bit. He could hear Roman and Remy chatting softly in the other yard and could feel Virgil’s hand on his shoulder. Logan’s warmth next to him sunk into his skin, and there was a weight in his pocket from a ring he’d been keeping there since he’d remembered it existed. He didn’t think it was time to bring it out. Not yet. Maybe when the potatoes they’d just planted finished growing. Logan moved to take his hand when he hesitated, and Patton smiled over at him.

How’re you feeling?

“Alive,” Patton said, and he was.

Don’t forget to check out the Bonus Features and End Credit Scenes

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #roman sanders #remy sanders #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #platonic royality #zombie au #patton is a zombie #italop #adriana writes #happy ending

[evanstarff]

Done Undone

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 5070

Summary: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes need saving from Natasha's secret cousin.

Warnings: A little lust, a little love, a little chaos. Come play, come eating, oral (m/f receiving), face-fucking, two dudes fucking, mildly Sub!Steve. Natasha's secret cousin. Swearing. It's PWP turned crack – this is 18+ only!

A/N: This is for my eternal inspiration and goddess @barnesrogersvstheworld Attie's spooky "Are You Afraid Of The Dark" challenge! Thank you for being such a wonder, my love. My prompt was the intoxicating "Fleetwood Mac – Black Magic Woman" and this is pure filth with a dash of crack at the end (go thank @tropicalcap).

Masterlist here.

---------

The safehouse was only halfway across the universe and twelve timezones away from their little brick home in Brooklyn.

"This is it," Bucky muttered distantly, crashing through the wooden door and shoving it shut, locked and clocked behind him. "This is where I die."

He glanced around the room, surveyed it, noted the old walls, wooden frames on a time lost. Functional. Fine despite his usual finicky taste, the light of dusk going grey through the space when his eyes rested on the Steve sprawled on the couch; blonde hair tufted and turned by wry fingers and looking the most relaxed Bucky had ever seen him saved for those quiet, hot hours in the night. He'd unstrapped his boots, kicked them far and away into the far corner of the living area, star-spangled pants half-done, undone, undershirt slick grey and familiar and Bucky swore.

"Been busy?" he asked, soft and deliberate, forgot the frustration, forgot the burning ache in his thighs from losing the mercenaries and cleared the narrow space between him and his big, blonde, stupid boyfriend, as heat washed through him like wildfire.

"You could say that," Steve smiled, sly sweetness all aglow in his handsome face. Those blue-burned eyes were a little glazed and Bucky's ears pricked at the sound of the shower turning off somewhere in the house.

"Without me, obviously," he huffed, a little envious, curious, mostly turned on beyond what might be considered normal after a very specific kind of adrenaline rush.

"Took your damn time," Steve continued, watching him curiously, heat simmering behind those eyes, warm breath and lust on his lips. "What else was I going to do?"

"I don't know," Bucky replied, face drawn closer now to those cheekbones, those lips, the edges of composition all fraying hot and pink. "Maybe don't get your cock sucked off while I'm getting shot at."

Steve huffed a laugh. "Is that so."

"Asshole."

And that was it, hot mouth coming down on Steve's lips, bruising, kissing with every sordid part of him, thick fingers sliding through his dark, sweaty hair, pulling and Bucky groaned into Steve's mouth, because he knew he liked it, and he knew he liked it better than most. He kissed the same as he always did, tasted just like the small moments when things got quiet on a balmy summer's day out on Coney Island. Sweeter. Softer. Simpler. Of ice cream and faded pink floss, and a promise kept secret before a finagled ferry ride back across the Hudson River.

"I was going to come out and get you myself," Steve replied, shooting him right back from 1937, his mouth tracing the line of Bucky's five o'clock shadow from two days ago. "You were taking so long, I had to wonder–"

"Sure you were," Bucky replied, mouthing at the pale skin lining the collar of that too-small undershirt, chest breathing heavily beneath. His hands went straight between Steve's thighs, skipping the waistband, greedy fingers stroking a stuttered groan from those pretty pink lips, heat between two hot bodies.

"How could I leave you?" Fingers in his hair gripped tighter now, pulling a gasp from his lips and Bucky grinned.

"You tell me," he replied, heart stuttering and lips pressed like a secret that he'd died to tell countless times before. "How long should you wait before fetching your lover from the fray?"

"A few hours."

Bucky turned, eyes on you now, clouding his brain, heat pouring through his skin, all drunk with desire. And you, clean and magnificent, leaning against the doorframe with a quiet hunger in those pretty eyes. Your hair was still damp, bright-eyed, lust-eyed, underwear doing little to appreciate the line and curve of your body. His head swam, dazed and woozy from the kissing, hands of skin and silver halfway down Steve's pants, the line of his cock achingly hard all the way, rubbing against the black cotton between his thighs.

"That so, darling?" he teased, lips smirking and turned red from the effort of kissing and you almost shivered, careful to turn your face easy and slow.

"Mostly," you replied, voice low, mouth going dry at the thought of having him, owning him. Keeping him.

You knew that look, the tilt of his chin, the glint in those blue-stormed eyes and the sly, swooping feeling that rattled your bones with want and lust and desire. He was magic, delight, every single edifying bit of knowing, every otherworldly thing. Some days he was a physical ache in your chest and Steve's and he wanted you and he could do what he wanted with you, with him, and him, exactly how he pleased.

Bucky was yours and so was Steve, and you belonged to them; wholly, completely, irreversibly spellbound in every timeline, every universe where the world only made sense when it was just you and them, them and you, woven together, irrevocably and complete.

The thing was, it wasn't just about you. It was you and him and him now in this terribly bright near-immortal life.

He would shower, maybe eat, then wrangle himself between you, Steve, and fuck himself drunk, fuck himself dizzy, fuck you right up to the nebulous gates of God himself and tell Him that not even heaven could match what he had right here in his hands, in his heart, deep in the foxholes of his soul.

"Been there long?" he asked at last, self-control fraying around the edges as he moved his fingers away from Steve's cock. He ignored the low groan of protest and the hot mouth on his jaw, tempting him back.

"Long enough," you replied softly, moving to him, feeling the heat radiate from them both.

Bucky's mouth was something else, Steve decided, half-hard, full-hearted as he watched him kiss you, swallowing the sweet whimper from your lips, hands sliding through your hair, cupped around your neck, firm with promise. That broad, thick body pressed on yours, leather rubbing up sweet against the thin fabric on your skin, trying to get closer – closer, as if his body could swallow your own in one fell swoop. It was that smirk, the soft, laughing tilt in corner of those lips, breathless on his mouth and it drove Steve crazy, dizzy, almost disgusted with desire as the memory of that warm, hot lips wrapped around his cock, sliding against his throat sparked into view and Steve almost groaned.

"After something?" Bucky chuckled, the goddamn asshole, turning his head, kissed your wrists, your palms, your pretty nose, your hot, clever mouth.

"He's always after something," you replied, breathless from his sweet, clever mouth, your eyes bright, grinning like the devil.  

"Nothing you can't give me," Steve said, a low murmur in his throat. Tempting, and Bucky almost let himself be pulled back into the couch.

"Listen, I just got in," he started, swallowed with much effort and peeling himself from you against his better judgement. "Literally just got here–"

"All the more reason to catch up," you cut him off, tidy fingers working the fastenings of his tac suit. "Who knows how long we have to lay low before it's safe."

"You're always safe with me." Bucky kissed you again, deep and possessive, a thrilling kind of ecstasy shooting right down from your mouth to your mons, and you were arching into him, wanting, full of want – want, want, want.

"Shower first, then play," he whispered against your swollen lips and let you go, kissed your nose all sweet and pious, the lightest stroke of his finger on the tip of your nose. "Don't play too hard, darlin'."

Bucky headed to the shower, leaving you and Steve, his pretty mouth curling all hot with intent. Half a breath, then a shriek of delight and he leapt, grabbed you, your hot, wonderous body in his arms.

Steve kissed you all deep and possessive, your body arching into him, legs wrapped tight against his waist, his cock resting just there, and oh, that was too much, a lot, everything, all things, and his lips were bruising now as he carried you the bedroom some distance of away, your bodies near aching with want.

On the bed now, his legs free of the uniform, naked from the waist down and the mattress dipped as Steve pressed his sweet, broad, delightful body against yours, hands going everywhere – your face, your throat, pressed right there, and you were tearing at his shirt, wanting him, always him. You were warm, so warm, and he wanted to play.

"Oh, oh–" Your mouth went dry as he shift your underwear aside, combed through the pretty, delightful curls and tucked his fingers into the hot, wet warmth of you, slick, desperate ease; a quiet ache becoming the agony of pleasure. Your hands came up, involuntarily, gripping his stupid, too-tight white shirt, your cunt clenching all around him as he added a third, working them how you liked it, the heel of his palm pressed against your clit and god, it was, it was, it is –

"Steve," you were gasping, starry-eyed and a little lost in the feeling of being his – his heart, his love, his own. His, his, his. Mine, mine, mine.

He was laughing into your mouth, breathless, delighted and astonished that he could do this to you, that you allowed him to – you who wanted him so completely, who he adored, worshipped in absolution. It made him blind, drunk, stupid, and utterly unbecoming of the mantle bestowed on him. If only they knew how much he adored you, how you made him, crafted him, stripped and owned between the sheets, and be made to remember who he belonged to.

"Shall we wait for him?" he whispered, measuring the distance between your breaths, the tightness with each thrust, and then withdrew his fingers from your cunt, swallowing the moan of protest from your mouth. "Maybe put you on top, on display, make you take it slow, so you're coming just as he comes through that door–"

God, that mouth. The things he said when he was near delirious with want. What possessed him when he was with you, what made him lose all sense of decency, lean right into debauchery, delighted in it, made him want to take you always in all ways, share you between him and Bucky, own you, keep you.

"Or maybe I'll just take you now," Steve laughed, soft and vulgar, and pressed his fingers against your mouth gently, then firmly, tracing your lips and you sucked them in, fingertips hot, warm. "Show you who you belong to," and then he shifted your thighs apart, one rested over his hip and pushed inside you.

This, godfuckAlmighty, everything came to this. You arched your back, stilled, tried to savour the feel, the fullness of him inside you, always, utterly taken by his length, your cry muffled by his fingers. Your hips were in his hands as he pulled back, half a breath to barely breathe, and then pushed back in, slow, deliberate, agonising and stunning all at once.

Every thrust was exquisite, your cunt clenching, gripped all around him, and he took his time, revelled in it, wanted it, wanted you, loved you – to see you, how your face changed when he turned this way, then that way.

"What do you think he'll do when he comes?" Steve asked, the distant sound of the shower turning off, time and interest piqued. "What do you think he'll do when he sees you?" He leaned up, his hips angled just how you liked it best.

Your breaths were stuttered, pleasure rippling through you, and you were starting to shiver and shake, then cried out when you realised he'd slowed – waiting for an answer, the goddamn asshole.

"Steve–" another drag of his cock, out, agony, and you shifted your body, trying to reclaim it, but he smirked, kept it together, though all he wanted was to fuck you senseless, take you apart, put you back together and then splinter you to pieces again.

"Answer me, sweetheart," he ordered, the edge of command in his soft, tender voice.

"Fuck my mouth," you replied, throat dry, your cunt aching with want. "Put his cock in my mouth and fuck my face while you fuck my cunt."

Heat bloomed through his chest, possession blurring the edges of his resolve. "Is that what you want?" he asked, sliding back into your warm, warm hole.

"Yes," you replied, grateful for the fullness returned. "I want him, I want Bucky to fuck my face."

Steve half-chuckled and then it got all warmer still, heat radiating, hands of gold and grey and skin on your face now, down your throat, and now Bucky – Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, all warm and damp from the shower, didn't even bother with clothes, the fucking seraphim with his hot, sweet mouth on your nipples, pulling them, wanting them.

"All you had to do was ask, darlin'," he replied, his cock against your cheeks, and you turned, tilted just enough, the head brushing against your lips. You opened them, took him in, heavy on your tongue, groaning, feeling full, blissed out, and Bucky chuckled softly, amazed and ripe with lust. You were aching, hot and almost shaking from having them both inside you, their breaths ragged, hoarse, half-measured.

Steve grinned, lecherous and sweet, then planted his knees into the mattress and fucked you. Fucked you hard, deep and deliberate, each thrust pushing Bucky's cock into your mouth in some sick, magnificent rhythm. You were pinned between them, trembling, near twitching as they pushed you, pulled you, owned you until the world went bright and made no sound, and you were coming, wet and clenching around Steve as he cried out, groaning, and it was almost impossible not to moan, gasp at the pulse of him inside you.

The vibrations in your throat set Bucky off, his hands cupped around your throat, gripping your hair, as his hips stuttered, shook and the feel of him down your throat made you choke and swallow, loving and loved. Steve was ferocious, fingers on your cunt, working your slick, his come, vulgar and filth and utterly, completely fine, made you come again with a gasping cry, then kissed you, licking Bucky's come off your lips when he pulled out, his tongue hot, deep and possessive. Mine, mine, mine. Yours, yours, yours.

The feeling of him sliding out of you, his come, your slick, had you feeling almost embarrassed yet utterly adored, that you could do this to him. You were still shaking, vision lost, when you felt them move, the mattress dip and Bucky's strained, wanting voice ask, "Do you mind?"

Where was he, what was he doing, what were they doing, soft, loving, adoring voices shared and blurred in the comedown. You were shaking from coming, from being taken and turned, used – god, the word, the very idea of it made you shudder and you loved it, breathless and desired.

Bucky touched you, turned you, metal cool on your hips, your skin, hot and trembling and laughed softly. You swore your whole body was burning up, hot to the touch, and you almost sobbed as he lifted you, cock gone hard again at the mere sight of Steve's come, your slick, sliding out along the curve of your ass, had him aching. He cupped your face with such tenderness, kissed you sweet and slow, and pushed in to your wet, wet warmth.

Nothing compared to him, his drive, slow and deliberate and thick, pushing you up onto the bed, bringing you back down on his cock, the slick, Steve's come running down your thighs and he was filling you up so good. It was too much, so much, you could hardly move to meet him at every thrust, hands gripped tight to the sheets, meeting Steve's, warm around yours.

He was watching you, positioned at your head, pulling you into his lap and held you down as Bucky moved faster now, bending over you, hot skin moving against your own, each thrust like wildfire through your body. You chanced a look above and god, that was a mistake; it was too much, too overwhelming, watching them kiss over you, their mouths on each other, Steve's hand in Bucky's hair and the vision had you feeling weightless, complete. Owned.

Whiter around the edges now, spasms shaking through your skin as you came and Bucky groaned, driving into you faster now, pinning you tight to his chest and fucked you relentless, almost stupid.

"Yeah, baby," he was saying somewhere through the haze. "Darlin', you were made for this – for me, for Steve. Gonna mark you up, remind you who you belong to."

"Yes, you," your hands pressing marks into his arms. "I belong to you, belong to Steve, oh fuck–"

And there, right there, he came, pulsing into your cunt, rocking into you and the thought of him, Steve, inside you thrilled you. The thought devoured you, desire still rippling through you as Bucky slowly pulled out, his cock warm and wet with his come, your slick, Steve. He lifted you off and you shuddered, feeling his come slide out of you, cried out when he pressed his mouth to you cunt to taste you, Steve, him, slick and wet on his nose, that mouth, all pink and punishing promise, the cleft in his chin shiny.

Is this what it felt like? To be his, and his, yours, claimed and wanted and owned. Maybe even loved – no, that word was still too tender, too much, too absolute, except when it got quieter and whispered in the deep swelling hours of the night.

"Sweetheart, baby, you're shaking," came Steve's voice, soft and astonished, brushing your hair from your pretty face, luminous in love and felt his heart swell.

You grinned, triumphant, ecstatic, and his hands came to you, warm and sweet, catching you and fitting you under his pelvis. His cock was hard from watching you, watching Bucky, the promise of everything shivering through every part of him and that look in his eyes all dark and smoky, sweet with lust.

"You're mine," you whispered.

Steve's face lit up like he was the goddamn sun and kissed you, adored you with greed, his body coming over yours, as Bucky worked his fingers into your cunt, pushed and pulled until you were crying out into Steve's mouth, shuddering when you realised he gathered the mess between your thighs, and slicked up his cock.

"Bucky, what are you–" you started, half-gasping, your voice utterly wrecked.

"Shh, I'm busy," he replied, determination hoarse through his throat, low and greedy. Steve now, pressed firm onto you by Bucky's strength, his skin hot like wildfire, burning and sliding across your chest, his cock rubbing against the slick of your cunt, Bucky's come, his and he shivered with delight.

Fingers working him now, wet and slicked, right down to his puckered hole where he liked to tease, and oh god, this is what it was, this was it – this was how he would die. Pinned between you, Bucky, and the burning end of the world, holed up in a strange and familiar safehouse in a country only known to you.

Bucky rubbed his fingers between Steve's cheeks, licked the pink hole because he felt like it and curled his fingers and heard Steve groaned. Yes, that's how he liked it, hardly ever admitted it, lube, lover's spit, that worked just fine, more than fine, his fingers working him, adoring the tight hot grip of Steve’s hot, hot, hole, rubbing him, half-twisted til he was half-driven into the deep agony of pleasure and desperation.

Your chest was tight with want and need and everything in between as you braced yourself, fingers gripping Steve's exquisite face, the rush of emotions running across those pink cheeks, pink lips, blue burned eyes, full and wonderous. He took your mouth in his and kissed you –  kissed you, kissed you, kissed you as Bucky took him apart, then put him together again and you were whiting out, vision gone dream-like, hazy and sweet as Steve pushed your thighs apart, worshipped the way you seized up, tensed just for him, knew what came next and he slid into you, come sliding out as he pushed in, pure filth, pure joy.

"Oh god," you said blankly, your voice feeling so far away, your cunt aching, still wanting, how – how, how, how – and Steve started to move.

"Fuck," was all he could manage, throat gone dry, skin like fire as Bucky took his sweet, sweet time. "Fuck, fuck me, Buck."

"Alright, alright," Bucky was laughing softly, devil incarnated from the sweetest, deepest part of hell and pushed in.

Steve fit right in his hands and Bucky grinned, amused, triumphant, his cock sliding between his cheeks, slow, slower still, thumbs of metal and skin pressed into his golden lover's back and Steve was pushing back against Bucky's cock, almost frantic, trying to gain more inches, and Bucky were laughing softly, a little power hungry.

"Is it too much, baby?" you asked him, breathless as he tried to fuck himself between Bucky's cock and into you, the motion stuttered, perfect, wonderful – the purest filth and vulgar delight.

"God, no," Steve gasped, hot breath against your neck and you shivered. "It's everything. You're everything."

His body was unwinding, jelly loose and pliable, amenable – useable and it delighted you.

"Fuck," Steve was gasping, the smallest sounds from the back of his throat, his cock pure bliss inside you. "Fuck me til I can't see," he whispered, ducking his head, shameless, voice hoarse against your neck as you gripped those golden strands. Your body was tense and drawn tight as pure feeling took over, tongue behind his ear and Bucky leaned over and shadowed the broad back of an Adonis trapped between half-mortals and kissed you, full and desperate, greedy lips matched by his greedy hips.

Bucky changed the angle of his hips, his thrusts going a different way, hot, hot agony and delight all at once – god, he was making it slow just to get himself off on the stuttered rhythm of your gasps, Steve's wild abandon at being fucked breathless, fucked so sweetly, fucked so hard, fucked at both ends, like he was being torn in half by the aching, dizzy desire to come.

You pushed up to meet him over and over, his skin gone pink and hot from effort, trembling. Your fingers dithered across Bucky's strong, scarred, shivering body, wanting, reaching, measured the muffled little noises from Steve as his cock ached and pulsed inside you, so close now, so much now – so good.

Bucky's hair was damp again, from the heat, the perfect work of being loved by you. It was a funny thing, his dark locks longer than he'd been fine to deal with, functional, but fine still. The creeping edge of indecision, laziness, overtaken by the fact that he was practically made to fuck you, fuck Steve, like some possessed soul. Thighs tensed and strained, the tendons in his muscles curving with the rhythm of holding Steve between two lovers and the air hazy, woozy in his head with adoration, love, want. How did it come to this, wanting this, always in all ways, fucked six ways to Sunday, barely made it hours alone without you, without Steve – as if it was like this, should be like this all along since the beginning of time itself.

Closer now, closer still, the air slick and sick with the wet sounds of his cock in Steve and Steve in you, the room filling up with your soft pants, the gasps and groans, vulgar, perfect, and it sent a thrill down his spine, through his skin, his shoulder, the shadow of something, something not quite right–

"What the FUCK??!!!"

Chaos reigned, the mood shattered, splintering as bliss turned into pure, unadulterated horror. You jolted upwards, legs like jelly, the ache of feeling ignored and stretched, and fear crystallised as two soldiers sprang across opposite sides of the bedroom. The bubble, the haze bursting clear now, gears sliding into place as the conclusion and a chuckling brand of comprehension drew itself a scampering shadow with too many legs clean across the floorboards.

"What the fucking FUCK is that?" Bucky repeated, skin damp from effort, pink turned white from the fucking and newfound fear draining his face.

Steve was silent, stricken, hands sliding through his hair once, thrice, too many times to count, fear and loss and the look of strategy wiped clean from his handsome face.

Bucky watched you leap from the bed, half-wrecked from your combined efforts to try and tail the creature into some bizarre corner he definitely did not want to know.

“Honey, where are you goin'?” he asked, voice strained.

“To go kill the spider," you replied as calmly as if stating the weather.

“... please don’t,” Steve said as sweet and soft as the rain now trickling outside.

“Oh my god," you groaned, though your face shone clear amusement all the same. "I’m fucking two giant babies.”

“At least we’re not giant spiders."

"Did they not exist in Wakanda?"

Bucky made a face, indignant as ever. "Never heard of them."

"Bucky, come on," you replied, ambling towards another part of the room, noted the slightly open window, the dots connecting just so.

A few moments slid by, the sound of rain soothing and sweet.

"Fuck that Parker kid, I'm gonna kill him."

"Bucky, why. What did he do?" Hysterical laughter bubbled in your throat as you tried to keep your composure for his sake.

"Exist."

"Bucky–"

"I'm not here to fuck spiders, darlin’."

“Call Nat!” Steve half-cried from halfway across the room, his pink, handsome face a picture of quiet concern.

Bucky blinked. “What the fuck— why?”

Steve was silent, skirting the line between amusement and fear.

“I swear to god," Bucky retorted, low and threatening. "If you say what I think you’re gonna say, I won’t fuck you for a year."

"I wasn't going to fuck her," Steve protested, ears gone red.

"She won't say no," you piped up as Steve watched your deliciously naked form prowl the edges of the room, eyes darting to find the creature.

A pause and a thoughtful smile on that handsome, golden face, blue eyes glittering. "No, I don't think she will."

The flash of a smile on your face and a curious glance. "I mean, I wouldn't be opposed–"

"Un-fucking-believable." Bucky rolled his eyes, hands of silver and skin now securely covered over his crown jewels, debating whether or not to head to the goddamn shower again, because the moodkill this time took the form of a past lover's secret cousin.

"I'm burning the sheets, this house, and then myself."

"Aren't you being a little dramatic?"

"Nope."

The thing with Bucky, this new, wonderful, pure magic of Bucky, all ease and sweetness, ferocity and fire in equal measure, was that he was happy to work with the situation – most of them, if not all of them. Goats, birds, grown men in metal suits, spiders masquerading as men, ants masquerading as dads – all of them. Hell, he even had a metal arm – what more was there to make sense of? In this incremental life, moments he found, lost and loved and found again to be called home, he was happy. Content.

Except when it came to particular creatures with too many legs to be considered natural.

"All I wanted," he said, rounding closer to the bathroom, hard thighs the pictured perfection of distraction. "Was to have some nice, normal sex with my nice, normal boyfriend, and my nice, normal girlfriend, but no–"

"I mean, we can."

"It's too late now." Bucky gave you a withering look that delighted you so much, you leapt into his arms and kissed it off, all warm and hungry.

"There are two things wrong with that sentence, baby," you replied, lips hot from his own.

"I'm nice and normal and both of you aren't?" Steve replied from a distance, preoccupied with trying to find the spider himself for a change.

"Says the guy who jumps out of airplanes for a living."

"I was looking for something," Steve smiled, small and sweet, the feeling swelling in his heart and glanced at his lover. "Took a while to find it."

Bucky seemed to full-body melt if not for the expression on his face, but he kept his composure, fixed his face clean.

"Sure, whatever you say," he replied, soft and loving.

"Shall we remind you?" you tempted, creature forgotten, desire throbbing between your thighs.

Bucky glanced back at you, his palms under your ass, warm and comforting while Steve tried to locate the creature. "Maybe you're the one who needs reminding, darlin'."

"I can't find it," Steve replied at last, face scrunched him, a contrast to his long, strong body, tall and intoxicatingly yours.

"Probably scared it off with all the fucking," you replied.

"Probably brought it out with all the fucking," Bucky retorted.

Steve came forward now, decidedly given up on the search, his head a shade or two clearer now from the dizzying, hazy spell of desire. He turned Bucky's face, fit him warm on his lips, his hands, kissing him all deep and possessive and desired. The thrill of watching them together, owning each other, claiming one another, had you trembling with want.

"How long did you say we were here for?" Bucky asked as you both watched Steve wander into the bathroom – finally, his turn to shower.

"However long they tell us," you replied, moving against him right there and revelled in the groan that rumbled his chest.

"Kill the spider, then fuck?"

You chuckled, closed off by his hungry lips. "Whichever comes first."

"Fucking," Bucky replied, throwing you back on the bed, warm skin sliding over yours and you near-shuddered, blood hot through your face as he pushed your thighs apart. "Definitely fucking."

He wrapped your legs high about his shoulders, his skin wet with sweat under your hands, the position familiar, wonderful, and perfect, and took you slowly and gently to pieces.

---

If you like my trash, please yell at me via an Ask!

---

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[rovewritesit]

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 5) John Deacon x Reader Series

GIF: @johndeac​

Apologies for the delay! Work has been an absolute shit fest. The big show I’m on got canceled, but we still have to finish the season at some point so oof. Also, my boss is moving to Italy? Pray for my sanity, folks.

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Strong language. Feelings of anxiety. Angst (oooo!)

Chapter Notes: I've rewritten this chapter so many times that I don't even know what it is anymore. Angst is hard, my dudes! Why can't it all be flirty glances and quick banter?!

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Songs Mentioned:

Moonlight in Vermont - Frank Sinatra

Blues Run The Game - Jackson C. Frank

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @brianmays-hair @deacyblues @squishy-geckboye @hae-bee @aprilaady @theresalexis @uglipotata72829

- - - - - - -

September 1982 - The Music Inn, New York City

“Bri, get a load of all these fucking maracas!”

Brian makes his way over to where Roger is gazing at a massive wall adorned with shaker-filled shelves, dipping his head low to avoid the sea of guitars hanging from the ceiling above his long frame. 

Queen was back in New York for their first-ever appearance on Saturday Night Live. Finding time in between the intensive rehearsals during the week had been hard, but Freddie insisted they would make the time for his favorite New Yorkers. When the time was finally found, he, of course, was unavailable, off antiquing at some of Manhattan’s luxury spots but promised to meet up with the group later on. 

The Limbs managed to snag the other three men for a trip to the historic Music Inn. Nestled in the heart of Greenwich Village, the dingy treasure trove was located a stone’s throw away from the city’s most prominent folk clubs that boasted discovering the talents of Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel. 

You were quite confident that your newfound English friends would love it. Every visible space was stuffed or covered with an abundance of musical paraphernalia. So much so that you had been in the store dozens of times without ever finding out what color the walls were. Its layout was always changing to fit the ever-growing amount of items displayed, the familiar specks of dust that sparkled in the sunlight being the only constants.

“Hey, Jeff!” Steve calls out to the eccentric owner. “Where are these from?” 

The aging hippie shuffles over. “Mostly South America,” he explains in his usual gravelly drawl. “A customer brought back some new shekeres from West Africa last week that have a nice sound to them.” Jeff motions up the sprawling wall. Roger immediately grabs a few, testing the sounds out against the ones Steve is already playing with - the two of them like kids in a candy store.

Jeff had been a good friend to The Limbs since their early teen years, having let the group spend hours on end attempting to learn every exotic instrument they could get their hands on. Anyone who entered the shop could count on him as a spirit guide of sorts to a wealth of worldly music. And while The Limbs had kept their first album fairly plain in context, they were already itching, particularly Steve, to experiment on the next album. Whenever that would be.

Now that a few more of their singles were moderately successful hits, Columbia Records was focused on milking it for all that it was worth. The execs were currently setting up an extensive American tour of the Mid - West Coast part of the country, all the major cities they hadn’t hit on their first tour. 

“Y/N,” Jeff gestures for you to follow him, probably excited to show you a new find seeing as you were always eager and willing to give them a test run. You make your way down the staircase lined with large balalaikas to the musty lower level filled with various sound equipment and electronic instruments. 

“What on god’s green earth would you use that for?” you hear Rich’s deep voice implore. He rolls his eyes as Eddie moons over an ornately engraved mandolin.

“It worked for Rod Stewart, didn’t it? That mandolin solo in Maggie May shredded,” he retorts. “Plus, look how pretty she is!”

You watch your feet as you carefully maneuver around the amps and pedals haphazardly strewn around the floor, following Jeff to the back of the room - taking special care to step around John, who is crouched low looking over the wiring of a particularly grody-looking amp.

Upon entering the store, he had taken off on his own right away, immediately entranced by the sprawling selection all about him. But you had caught the worn, far-off look in his eyes when he greeted you with a short wave earlier. You try not to let the lack of attention bother you as you pass him without so much as a glance up. The heartfelt conversation you had the last time they were in town had rooted itself in your memory. Spilling your guts like you did that night wasn't a common occurrence for you- figuring you were already easy enough to read due to the panicked expression often etched onto your face. 

Why him? Even your bandmates weren’t privy to the babblings of your intimate thoughts. It couldn’t just be his boyish tooth-gap or the pleasing line of his straight nose. Maybe it was the confusing mix of nerves and comfort you felt whenever in his presence. It was unlike the persistent butterflies you were used to when around attractive humans. Feeling instead like a gentle humming that you somehow sensed everywhere at once.

You’re brought out of your swimming thoughts as Jeff clears his throat loudly to get your attention. You must’ve been staring blankly at the floor for quite a while. He gestures to a bulky item draped in a tarp, as you give him a small apologetic smile.

“Oh yes, very pretty,” you smirk at him.

He rolls his eyes as he attempts to sweep the tarp off in a dramatic reveal, but in reality, it gets stuck. The man scrambles to uncover it, and as soon as it peeks out, you gasp.

“A theremin!”

You gaze at the ordinary-looking wooden cabinet in awe. It must be old, seeing as they were mostly compact now.

“You haven’t had one in ages,” you marvel, locking eyes with Jeff.

“Which means it’s been a while since I’ve heard your ambient screeches plaguing these walls.”

Your finger points to him in protest. “Hey, I was getting better until you sold the last one on me!”

“Well, I didn’t see you making a bid for it,” he playfully shrugs.

“Let’s hear those screeches!” Eddie yells out. Rich claps his hands excitedly beside him. You poke your tongue out at them, but your eyes catch John’s, and you quickly close your mouth. Still crouched, he looks on with mild curiosity wrinkled on his brow. He lightly raises them at you in silent encouragement.

You slowly make your way behind the instrument as Jeff plugs it into the wall. Turning one of the knobs, it hums to life as you check the metal attachments protruding from the wood frame. It really is old. You have no idea how to even begin to calibrate it. Taking a deep breath, you timidly bring your hands up in position.

It lets out a high pitched wail that burns your ears from being so close, and you yank your hands away from the field of current. Eddie and Rich erupt into cheers while John slowly stands, moving a bit closer to see the mechanism properly.

Jeff lightly pushes you back towards it in a gentle coax. This time you slowly bring your curled hand a reasonable distance away from the pitch antenna, keeping your other low on the one for volume. Squeezing your eyes shut to focus on the tone, you slowly move until you find your starting note. It was all about sense memory and your ears to fill the gaps with nothing to physically touch. 

Uncurling your fingers, you begin the opening notes of Moonlight in Vermont - the one song you had somewhat taught yourself through hours of painstaking practice. You fumble a bit, eliciting a squeak or two while trying to remember the hand placements that produce the proper notes. While you might “play” many instruments, you were middling at many, master of none. You make it through the first verse before your head starts to pound from your jaw-clenched concentration.

“Fuck the mandolin, let’s get that for the next album!” you hear Rich tell Eddie.

“Ah, yes, you’ve heard Pet Sounds. Now prepare your ears for The Limb’s sophomore attempt, Ghost Sounds,” 

Their banter is drowned out as John chimes in. “How on earth did you learn that?” You meet his struck expression and shrug lightly.

“Don’t downplay it, Bun. It’s pretty fucking cool,” Rich assures you. “And her knowing ASL also helps,” he explains to John.

“Sign language?”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s mom is deaf,” Eddie reveals bluntly. You shoot him a look.

“Sorry, hard of hearing,” he holds his hands out in defense.

John is silent for a moment as he mulls the information over, causing a speck of tension in the room.

“Your mother’s never heard you sing?” he asks incredulously as if he can’t possibly imagine it.

You give a small smile. “No, I guess she hasn’t. But I was in the car with her the first time I heard us on the radio. I turned the treble down and the bass all the way up and she bopped along to the beat pretty well.”

Rich chuckles lightly at the story. “She’s always been hoot, hasn’t she?”

You nod gently. “Aptly put. That’s how she describes herself as a matter of fact.”

John shoves his hands deep in his pockets as he takes a look around the room, his cheeks a light pink. You're unsure of why.

“I’m gonna head out for a quick smoke,” you decide, patting Jeff on the shoulder. “I know how you hate it.”

He gives your hand a light squeeze before you make your way upstairs, hoping to catch John’s eyes, but he avoids yours yet again. 

A pleasing blend of harmonies can be heard as you hit the landing. You peek your head around a large assortment of bongos to find Brian strumming a small acoustic on the other side of the store. Roger, Steve, and Lawrence all crammed around, the four of them singing a rendition of Blues Run the Game. 

Your heart warms at the sight, remembering the times when you and the boys would sit around a campfire and croon out the same sad tune. Eddie and Rich will be pissed they missed this. Steve notices your presence and silently ticks his head for you to come join. You hold up your pack of Marlborough’s in response to him before finally slipping out the front, trying your best to not jingle the adorned bells too much.

A cool breeze promptly passes through the knit of your sweater. It’s late September, and New York has begun to really cool off. You pull down the sleeves to cover your hands as you light your cigarette, wincing a bit on the first inhale. It was a leftover habit from your college days- scarcely used, only in social situations, or to get out of awkward ones.

Taking in the familiar street, you can’t help but giggle at the day you were having. To be showing Queen around your old hangout still felt absurd. No matter how genuinely they seemed to like the company of your band, you couldn’t fathom them wanting to spend the day with you all. Weren’t there bigger and better musicians in this city to be hanging out with? 

The sound of a lighter flicking to life comes from your left, and you turn. John leans against the faded wall as he takes a drag, his eyes trained on the dirty sidewalk. 

“I’m sorry, i- if I offended you with my comment about your mother,” he professes quietly. 

Your brows shoot up in confusion. “What?”

“We have a friend whose father is deaf. A lovely man. I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.” He sighs, finally turning to face you. “It’s just that the memory of hearing your voice for the first time isn’t something one can easily shake. I mean that in a way that- it’s just a shame really. For her to not be able to share in it when it’s something so...” he looks as if he’s racking his brain for an appropriate word. “Well, singular.”

You suck in a breath at his words. In all your years, you had never gotten that as a response to your mother’s disability. It was mostly a polite, “Oh, really? I’m so sorry to hear that.” His honesty and consideration for your feelings knock the present hum of your body up to 100. 

You flinch as gentle burning hits your fingers, and you look down at your forgotten cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground before crushing it under your heel. John shifts his weight from side to side, never taking his eyes off of you while he waits for you to collect your thoughts.

“I write out my lyrics for her so she can read them as poems,” you state simply, smiling up at him. “Sometimes she makes up her own melodies and sings them around the house. It’s not the easiest on the ears, but she’s pretty inventive.” His eyes crinkle as he returns your grin - his first genuine one of the day.

“So she’s heard music before?”

“Oh yeah. She has nerve deafness, which didn’t start till her late twenties. She actually spent a lot of time around here when she was younger. Bitter End and The Gaslight are just a few blocks away.”

He hums lightly as he stares at you- like you’re a puzzle whose pieces are just beginning to fit together.

“Can you teach me something in sign language?”

Once again, your brows shoot up, shocked by his response. You blink a few times, trying to think of what to say. Going with the only thing that pops to mind, you sign out a phrase as he watches your hands intently.

“And what does that mean?”

You smirk, “You are a cheesy cow.”

“I’m sorry?” he laughs out.

You repeat it back slowly while signing along. “You. Are. A. Cheesy. Cow. It’s the first thing my mother taught me how to sign.”

He runs his hand over his jaw as he chuckles. “Rich was right. A hoot she must be.”

“I’m pretty shit, to be honest, and she read lips, so it’s mostly used for snide comments during extended family gatherings.”

You watch as he puts out his cigarette and carefully takes a step closer to you. “I’m assuming your colourful vocabulary extends to those instances as well.”

“Right you are.”

“Freddie will love that,” he snickers. “He always seems to collect vulgarities in other languages wherever we go.”

Your attention is torn away as a sleek black car rolls up to a stop at the curb. It’s out of place in the middle of the street filled with old and worn buildings, which can similarly describe the people who mill about.

“Speak of the Queen herself,” you laugh as a sunglass-clad Freddie steps onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, isn’t this quaint!” he exclaims, peering into the shop window. He straightens as he turns to you, hands-on-hips.

“Deacy. Thumper. Are we fans of freezing our tits off, or shall we go inside?”

You give John a small smile and push yourself off the wall, making your way over to Freddie, who immediately pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. The bells against the door ring out as you all enter the shop.

“Ah, Deacy,” Brian pokes his head out from one of the narrow aisles, still in a constant crouch to avoid the instruments above his head. “I was looking for you. Found these adorable teeny guitars I thought might be good to bring back for the kids. What do you think?”

“Kids?” you mumble to yourself as John makes his way over to inspect them.

“Brian has two, and John’s already up to 3. Maybe we should’ve nicknamed him Bunny.” Freddie laughs, nudging your arm. “You know… fucking like rabbits,” he expands due to your lack of chuckling.

He leans into your field of vision as he studies your statue-like expression, eyebrows knit in confusion. His eyes take in your ashen face and your lifeless expression. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing. When you lock your eyes with his, you know he understands from the sheer size of how big they become. He straightens up, glancing around quickly as if looking for something to put out a fire.

“Freddie!” Steven dances over, clicking a pair of castanets in his hands. “I wanted to show you thi-”

“So sorry, love, we can’t. Y/N promised to come to a fitting with me, and we’re already late," he announces loudly, pulling you by the arm and out the door before anyone can react.

- - - - - - -

You blankly stare at your reflection in the long mirror. Freddie had instructed his stylist to pull some outfits for you to parade around in as he tried on a bevy of metallic coats.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell the girl staring back at you.

Freddie sashays over, a shag jacket swaying with him as he places his hands on your shoulders, surveying the strappy dress you were currently squeezed into.

“Oh yes, this will do for the after-party,” he instructs.

“I’m not going.”

He heaves a deep sigh. “Darling, you already refused the ticket I got you for the show. You’re coming to the party,” he declares, turning away to look at more options.

“This isn’t really me…” you mumble, gesturing to the dress.

He regards you with a small smile. “Exactly. I say this with love, but you need a look, Y/N. Something that makes you feel unstoppable,” he gestures to his body as he twirls towards you. “Don’t you want to shock them?”

You chew your lip as you ponder that sentiment. Dawn usually just shoved you into whatever ensemble she had picked for you - leather jackets, monochromatic sets, tight jumpsuits. She kept hoping you’d find a style you fancied, but you had yet to find anything remotely likable under the lights of the stage.

“To be honest, I just want to be able to feel comfortable out there," you sigh. "But I can’t strut around in flashy outfits or conduct a whole crowd like you do." Huffing as you collapse onto one of the white couches around you. He perches beside you, throwing an arm around the back of the sofa.

“Then don’t,” he says simply.

You snort a response as you cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but have you tried showing them a bit more of yourself?”

“I can’t do that.”

He turns to you now, grabbing your attention with his eyes.

“And why not?” he questions.

You gaze down at your hands, which you’re now wringing together in your lap. “What if it’s nothing spectacular?” you whisper out the criticism that you'd drilled into your mind for the past year.

Freddie laughs lightly as he stands. “Let’s not start lying to ourselves, shall we?” He moves in front of you and kneels, now at eye level, making so you can’t look away.

“Sometimes people go to a concert for an escape. A big bloody show with dazzling lights and petite men galavanting around a stage in spandex tights,” he smiles. 

“But most of the time they just want to find a piece of themselves in it, don’t they? Commonality. They want to hear you, see you, and feel just a little less alone than we all know we are. I saw just a slice of it at your concert, and it was indeed something spectacular. So take that as you will.”

You’re not one to cry much, but your eyes soften as you take in the icon of a man in front of you. A man loved by millions, who was currently filling in as your personal rock n’ roll fairy godmother.

“You’re a fantastic person, you know that?” you tell him genuinely.

“Yes,” he quips as he gets to his feet. “Now, are we done scurrying around the real problem at hand?”

You sigh as you look away, firmly willing yourself not to break the dam of bottled emotions threatening to spill out. Why couldn't you just feel numb? It would be better than the wave of childish self-pity you found yourself in.

Freddie huffs at your reaction. “Oh, you brat. Sorry to tell you, but you’re an open book, my dear. And not one of those big pompous things Brian reads. A bloody children’s book. One filled with pictures.”

You're sure you’ve now bitten through the entire top layer of your lip as you contemplate how to even begin.

“I’m an idiot,” you shrug to yourself yet again.

“No,” he points a finger at you. “You’re decidedly not. Though I am curious as to how someone who’s as big of a fan as your friends say you are, missed out on that detail.”

“I’m not sure either. I mean, I listen to your albums and go to your show, but I guess I didn’t pour over the tabloids or press interviews or anything like that.”

Freddie nods along as he sifts through another rack of jackets, choosing an incredibly tight white leather number.

“I assumed you knew,” he answers while glancing at his reflection. “And I would say Deacy should know better, but he’s not quite himself at the moment.”

“What do you mean?” you press, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.

He turns to you, palms up in explanation. “It’s not that he wouldn’t normally be charmed by your shy presence and occasionally crass mouth… But I’m a bit worried he’s finding comfort in your smiles for the wrong reasons.”

“Huh?”

Sighing heavily as if debating if he should keep skirting around his words, he holds your gaze. “An impending divorce is crippling lonely, even if it is somewhat amicable.”

His mouth is brought into a pout as you suck in a sharp breath. 

Divorce. All your previous interactions play through your head from a different angle. Pity sneaks up on you as you remember John’s advice he’d given you. The concept of home is a funny thing. You scoff out loud at how your childlike crush had skewed your interpretation of your relationship with the man.

“I’m usually the one singing his praises,” Freddie muses, breaking you out of your inner monologue of resentment towards yourself. “But he seems more lost than usual at the moment.” 

He gently lifts your chin. “I don’t normally meddle in- well, actually I do. Just don’t want to see you get hurt, Bunny. Not when the world is soon to be at your feet.”

"I'm fine," you lie, gently brush away his gesture. "I barely even know the guy. I was just shocked to have my silly fascination with him interrupted. Stupid, really."

"Don't do that," he exhales. "Don't put it on yourself. You'd have to be blind to ignore the fact that he's quite taken with you."

"I'm fine," you repeat, making your way into the back to change out of the ridiculous dress that suddenly felt even tighter now.

Shutting the door slowly, you let out a deep breath. It's all good, you tell yourself. Of course you got caught up in the attention of a world-renown musician. Who wouldn't? It's nothing special. As Freddie said, he's not even acting like himself. Although you were indeed in true form- getting caught up by the slightest of interactions. Unconsciously playing them as a loop in your head. You can't help but cringe at your own escalation of the situation.

Squaring your shoulders, you take in the image of yourself in the dress again. Perhaps it was time for you to shock them all.

- - - - - - -

“And so my grandfather goes out to the alley and sees her just wailing on this scrawny man. I mean, really going to town. So he pulls her off him, and the dude’s got a black eye and a bloody nose. And he’s like, “Thanks mate, thought she was gonna kill me there.”

Roger ruffles your hair in response to your poor attempt at a British accent. The group of cast and crew around you chuckle at the gesture. 

You had decided that if you were going to be forcibly dragged to this after-party by your bandmates, you would at least aim to make it worthwhile. A debut of your new mentality.  One where you weren't just acting the part of a rising rock star, but living it. 

Which is why at the moment, you found yourself the center of attention, surrounded by the cast and crew of SNL laughing along to your amusing story. But this was all hinged on you carefully, avoiding the presence of John Deacon at all costs. Which, in reality, wasn't very hard to do- you had yet to see him since arriving an hour ago.

“Oh my god, who was it?!” the young cast member beside you presses. You think her name is Julia, but the sheer amount of people you'd been introduced to was dizzying.

"That's exactly what we asked him when he told us. All he said was that it was some man with big lips who was in a fur coat and looked like he hadn't eaten in a month..."

The cam op across from you gasps, "It was MICK JAGGER? God bless your grandfather, I would've wept if she murdered him."

"So would my mom AND grandmother," you laugh. "Give us each a glass of wine, and it's basically a Mick fan club."

"Who else?" Brian taps your leg, surprisingly urging you to divulge more gossip.

You can't help but smirk as the group leans forward intently.

"Robin Williams?" you tease as their eyebrows all raise.

"Horrible tipper, but he makes up for it by performing dirty puppet shows with the napkins."

"Sounds about right," funnyman Brad Hall confirms, offering you another drink.

You politely decline, determined to keep your wits about you this evening. "I'm gonna go grab some water. Anyone want anything?"

The group shakes their heads, but Lawrence jumps up to join you on your trek to the crowded bar.

"Wouldn't it be insane if this was us one day?" he exclaims as you weave your way through the mass of bodies littering the Capitol Grill. 

You smile up at him, "Dream big, buddy."

"Oh, I intend to," he confirms you as you spot Eddie and Rich waving you over from a spot at the bar. 

Rich promptly wraps his arm around your shoulders as you join them. He always had a stoic way of letting you know he saw through the cracks in your poorly constructed armor. Taking the role of a caring older brother, more so than your own.

"Have we lost Steve again?" Lawrence asks the group.

Eddie nods across the room. "He's exactly where you think he'd be," he scoffs as you catch a glimpse of Steve, trailing Freddie like a lost puppy.

"Um, excuse me?" a short girl mumbles from behind Eddies' denim-clad shoulder. He turns, glancing down.

"Hiya," he regards her casually, causing her a deep blush to creep across her cheeks. She shoves a napkin and pen at him.

"C-could I get an autograph? Please?"

Eddie smirks at her flustered appearance, making sure to brush her fingers as he grabs the items out of her trembling hand.

"And what beautiful name should I be making this out to?"

She lets out a jarring high pitched giggle as she stumbles over her words. "Oh, uh, Shelley."

"Well, here ya go, Shelley," he hands the napkin back to her, now adorned with his messy scrawl. "Maybe I'll see you later."

She squeaks as she hurries back to her shrieking friends who are huddled conspicuously off to the side.

"Gross," you state. "She's a child. Probably one of the executive's kids." 

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Gotta keep em' interested, Bun. As the heartthrob of the group, it's my sworn duty."

"Slow your roll there, Rob Lowe," Rich interjects. "I think Y/N's giving you a run for your money in this dress."

You glance down at the Freddie approved ensemble. It was eye-catching for sure, precisely what you were going for. It's black suede straps crisscrossed strategically against your body, giving peaks of the skin underneath.

"It looks good, Bun," Rich assures you.

“Guys,” you all turn your attention to Steve, who has just joined the circle clumsily. His pupils are blown wide from his current blood alcohol content, and he sways slightly on his heels.

"I- I have something to say," he announces to the group, getting your attention. You all wait patiently as he hesitates, clearing his throat twice before lowering his voice. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m gay.”

You glance around to the other boys whose expressions mirror your own warm smile. You’d all known Steve was gay since high school, not that any of you had talked about it. You had just assumed it was something unspoken. That he’d tell you whenever he was ready or met someone good enough to introduce to you all.

Steve gapes at your expressions. "Where is the shock? I was expecting shock and awe, people!"

"Steve, please don’t take this the wrong way. But I’m assuming we’ve all known for a while," Rich says gently. You all nod lightly in agreement.

"How?"

"Do you remember the types of girls who used to throw themselves at you? Like Becky Whale? Man, I would’ve killed for Becky Whale to throw something at me. But you never took them up on it," Lawrence elaborates.

Steve smiles around at all of you, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“I had a crush on Eddie in high school,” he confesses.

Eddie pumps his fist lightly. “Fuck yeah.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Lawrence exclaims. “You just had to boost that ego, didn’t ya? I know pretty boys are great and all, but I’m the one with the big soft cuddles. People love big soft cuddles!”

Rich expands his arms as he brings you all in for a hug. 

You kiss Steve gently on the cheek. “I’m proud of you, bud,” you whisper.

"Thank you guys, I just felt like it was time. And now that that's out of the way," Steve grunts as you all untangle yourselves. “I’m gonna go find Freddie. He said he’s taking me out to a club after this!”

He skips away with a grin, back towards Freddie, who catches your eye with a knowing smile and winks. It seems you weren’t the only band member who had found a fairy godmother in Mr. Mercury.

You all lightly laugh affectionately at your friend until Eddie and Lawrence wander off to scope out the food situation. You lean against the bar next to Rich, glancing around at the loud laughter erupting from the outgoing crowd. One person noticeably sticks out. A sullen John Deacon sits at the end of the bar, hunched over what looks like a glass of whiskey.

"Looks like he's in need of a friend," Rich surmises.

You tear your eyes away from the sorry sight to look at him. "They're around here somewhere," you shrug.

He rubs your arms up and down lightly before slinking into the crowd, knowingly leaving you alone. 

You sneak a peek over at John. He runs one hand through his curls as the other absentmindedly stirs the straw of his sweating drink. You watch him sigh, bringing the glass to his lips and gulping down the spirit without so much as a wince. 

Hesitantly making your way over to him, you rub your clammy hands over the expensive material of your dress. This is the opposite of avoidance, you scold yourself, silently willing your feet to change direction. But your willpower has seemingly left the building.

You carefully perch yourself on the stool next to his, as not to disturb his brooding. He glances over quickly, doing a double-take when he realizes who it is.

"Oh, hello there," he greets you with a small smile. "I didn't know you had arrived."

You nod your head lightly. "How could you? It seems you set up camp over here."

"Ah, yes," he breathes, straightening his posture. "Wasn't our best tonight, I'm afraid. Not much to celebrate."

You take a sip of your water as you continue to nod silently.

"Actually," he begins, angling his body towards yours, almost slipping off his stool as you notice his apparent intoxication. "I was thinking about that conversation we had. When I met your spritely grandfather."

"Oh?" you question. Keeping your face neutral even though your heart was already buzzing at the fact.

"Yes. Mostly about how naive I was—all that bloody nonsense about finding a home. Do me a favor and never take my advice, will you? You'll end up completely wrecking yours."

This was a bad idea.

"It's just- you draw these lines for yourself in the sand," he drawls, waving his hands about in front of him. "A stupid phrase, really. Where did it even come from?"

"The Bible," you tell him quietly.

He lets out a big sigh, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Well, it's gotten it wrong before, hasn't it?"

You simply hum an acknowledgment, too scared to probe for fear of where this was going.

"Anyway, you draw these lines. Moral, physical, promises you make to yourself, things you swear you’d never do, dreams to accomplish," he lists out. "But sand moves about, dunnit? It blows all over the place. Makes a mess. Gets in your sandwich. And those lines blur. Or fade away. And all of a sudden, you've crossed them without even knowing! Broken those promises. Skipped right over those dreams."

He's too far gone in his rant to register the growing panic sweeping across your features.

"You were right. Sometimes you look in the mirror, and it's just a complete stranger staring back at you, isn't it?"

Trying to keep your breathing steady, you stare at the crumbling man before you. He runs his large hands along his face before ducking back into his former position, signaling for the bartender to bring him another drink.

This is precisely why you should've stuck to your original plan. What were you supposed to say to the man who was so obviously hurting from his failed marriage? So much so that it was pouring out of him. You know that if it weren't for the alcohol, he wouldn't be confiding any of this to you.

But there was a reason the boys called you the mom of the group, and it wasn't because you were the only female. You feel a pang of need to comfort him. You gaze at him, not with pity, but an overwhelming sense of empathy for the man and make up your mind.

You clear your throat to answer, brushing away your own warnings about how it would only sink you deeper into your fascination with him.

"I was wrong, actually," you start as he brings his head up to look at you. "And you know what phrase I hate? That people don't change."

He furrows his brow but remains silent as you continue.

"Maybe we're not made up of lines in the sand. Maybe we're the wind?" You try not to cringe at yourself and your poor use of metaphor. "And winds sometimes blow in different directions... but that's okay because it's where life is supposed to take them." Falling silent, you decide to quit while you’re ahead. 

You're not ahead. You're not even out of the gate. What the fuck was that?

A slow smile inches onto his face as he holds your stare. "How did you get so wise for someone your age," he teases.

"And what age would that be?"

His mouth opens and closes as he studies your face. "Twenty?"

"Mm, close. Twenty-four."

"Really?" he ponders. "Freddie mentioned you dropped out of university."

"Ah, yes. The university I could only go to after working to afford it," you explain. 

He continues to stare, the look in his eyes shifting slightly as he takes you in. A look that matches the color and intensity of uncharted, open water. You need to get out of here.

"Well, that explains your extraordinary use of analogy then."

Dragging your eyes off of his, you glance around at the party you were missing. Gladly missing, unfortunately. 

"I should go check on Steve. He's having a bit of a night," you tell him as you stand. "Try not to drown yourself in those," gesturing to the new glass of whiskey in front of him.

"How can I drown myself? I thought I was the wind," he points out with a grin.

Before any more banter can ensue, you simply smile and make your way back to your friends. Thinking to yourself that maybe lines in the sand weren't so bad. And that perhaps it was time for you to start drawing some of your own.

#john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #angelofmydreams

[refinedbuffoonery]

Riley + Sunglasses + Undercover (5)

masterlist.

Read it on AO3. 

*****

Of course the one time Matty let the CIA borrow her best agents, they ended up walking into a trap. The Company was messy like that. Matty swore that as soon as she got her team back safe and sound, heads were going to roll. Starting with the director of the CIA himself. 

In the meantime, she tapped her foot on the war room floor while she waited for Riley to finish scrubbing the security footage. No one spoke. 

“There,” Riley said. She mirrored her screen so Matty could watch. 

Desi stood in the lower left corner of the video. While all of the other guests were enraptured by something just outside the frame, a pair of gloved hands smothered her agent’s face with a rag and dragged her out of view. 

Mac and Riley weren’t in the picture at all. 

“Mac, Riley,” Matty said, “where were you when this happened? And what is everyone staring at?” On the other end of the line, someone choked. It sounded like Riley. Bozer’s soft chuckle came through the speaker. 

“Guys, what are you not telling me?” she prompted. With the way Bozer was laughing, she knew something was up. Bozer’s “I have a secret” vibe was literally visible from the moon. 

Mac finally answered her. “Riley and I were...uhh...busy.” No one elaborated further. 

Matty had a feeling she knew exactly what “busy” entailed. Apparently, it was a very public “busy.” Even though they couldn’t see her, she smiled. “I look forward to reading all about it in your reports.” Just to make them squirm, Matty let her statement hang in the air for a few moments before getting back to the situation at hand. “Riley, can you see where Desi was taken?” 

Riley’s nails clicked on her keyboard. “Desi was standing in front of a side exit. The footage of the hallway outside doesn’t show anyone entering or leaving, so whoever took her must’ve looped the cameras.” 

Perfect. This op was the gift that just kept giving. “Mac, what do you think she was drugged with?” 

“Chloroform, most likely. Everything you need to make it can be found in any janitor’s closet.” 

“Okay, and where are we on locating Pierre?” 

“I’ve got him,” Riley answered, mercifully. “He’s in a car driving southeast.” 

“What’s southeast?” Bozer asked. 

After a few clicks, Riley said, “For starters, the border with France. But it looks like there’s a helicopter-only airport before that.” 

Matty didn’t like the directions she was about to give, but she gave them anyway. “Riley, go get him. Bozer, stay in the suite to help Riley and figure out how to get the hotel out of lockdown. Mac, find Desi.” A chorus of “yes ma’am”s filled her ears. 

She hung up and took a deep breath. Her agents had been in far worse situations, but any mission that went belly-up put Matty on edge. Mac and Riley would get them home safe, she promised herself. One way or another, they always did. 

*****

None of them like splitting up, but they all agreed it was their best option. Riley was the best high speed chase driver, and Mac would know what to do if Desi needed immediate medical attention. 

Riley was secretly relieved she’d be getting some distance from Mac, however brief. She’d figured she would spend the entire op tied to him, but chasing down Pierre gave her an excuse to process her emotions alone and figure out what the fuck was going on. 

First, she needed to get out of the building and find some wheels. 

“Hey, Mac.” He immediately met her eyes. “Could you please make me a small grenade?” 

Mac’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Sure.” He started to head off in search of ingredients, but seemed to think better of it and turned around, leaning against a wall. “Riles, why do you need a grenade?” 

Riley grinned. “Distraction while I steal a car.” 

Mac’s mouth quirked into his ‘I’m impressed’ smirk. “That’s my girl.” 

His voice echoed in her head. That’s my girl. That’s my girl. That’s my girl. 

A few minutes later, Mac handed her his suit jacket and a plastic water bottle filled with god only knew what. For once, their fingers didn’t brush, and that stung more than any impending rejection. Even though it was wholly unnecessary, they always found excuses to brush hands. Brief reassurances they had each other’s backs. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he said with mock seriousness. 

“No promises.” Riley stared at the jacket, trying and failing to figure out how it was related to the grenade. Maybe she was supposed to wrap it around the bottle? Looking up, she asked, “What’s the jacket for?” 

She could’ve sworn Mac blushed. “In case it’s cold outside.” She pulled it on, ducking her head to hide her own blush. Trying not to love him was damn near impossible, even if he was confusing. He didn’t touch her, but he gave her his jacket? If this was supposed to be a rejection, he was doing a terrible job at it. The jacket was way too big, but it was warm and smelled like him. Riley immediately felt safer, like his actual arms were enveloping her. Fresh memories of being wrapped up in him lurked in the back of her mind. She told them to fuck off. 

Water bottle grenade in hand, Riley slipped out of the suite, fighting the urge to look back. 

Walking through the hotel without raising suspicion was easy enough, but getting to the hotel’s underground parking lot was another matter. Since the hotel only had valet parking, there was no guest entrance to the lot. After consulting the building’s blueprints, Riley had found the series of hidden staircases she crept down now, narrowly avoiding getting caught by a pair of roaming guards. With every step, her heels clicked on the concrete, and the sound echoed up the stairwell. She’d been planning on begging Matty to let her keep the designer shoes, but at this point, she would give anything to have her favorite boots instead. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Riley clutched the water bottle and peeked into the lot. There wasn’t a soul in sight other than the twenty-nothing year old kid on his phone in the valet booth. His right thumb moved rapidly across the screen, as if he were playing a game. Lucky her. 

She chucked the grenade as far as she could away from the booth--and the exit. It exploded with a loud bang, causing the boy to practically jump out of his skin before running to investigate. “Boom,” she said with a smirk. 

Riley walked right into the booth. Keys covered two walls from floor to ceiling, each labeled with a number. Her eyes caught on a set of Lamborghini keys just below eye level. Perfect. She hit unlock, and the car chirped from across the lot, lights flashing. 

First checking to ensure the valet employee was still distracted, Riley jogged between cars and through the aisles, ignoring the way her stilettos pinched her toes. 

“Hey!” A male voice called across the lot. Shit. The valet employee finally saw her. Riley sped up. She probably looked ridiculous, running as fast as she could while trying not to fall on her face. 

When she finally reached the sleek, black convertible, Riley flung the door open and slid inside, yanking off her right shoe. It still had that new car smell. Aside from being pissed at her for not giving the car the reverence it deserved--or something like that--Jack would’ve been so jealous if he knew. Not only was it the nicest car any of them would ever drive, but the real icing on the cake was that Mac wasn’t there to destroy it. 

The engine roared to life. Bozer practically screamed in her ear. “Damn, Riley. What kind of car did you get? Also, when you exit, turn right.” 

“You’ll see,” she responded gleefully. Riley gunned it out of the lot, following Bozer’s instructions. 

As soon as she pulled out into the street, Bozer shrieked. “A Lamborghini?!? You stole a fucking Lamborghini?” 

Riley cackled with delight, speeding off in pursuit of Pierre. 

*****

Meanwhile, Mac set off in search of Desi. Riley’s laughter rang in his ear, a warm sound that reverberated through his bones. He tried and failed to ignore it. 

He knew Desi was still in the hotel. Bozer was monitoring all the exits using a Phoenix satellite, so if she had left, Bozer would’ve seen it. 

Mac knew this was all his fault. If he hadn’t been distracted by kissing Riley, then Desi wouldn’t have been kidnapped. Plain and simple. 

At the thought of kissing Riley, he was transported back into that damn closet, where they’d kept kissing for a few seconds, even after they ditched their audience. 

Those precious few seconds nearly undid him. 

There was no need to continue the show, yet she still kissed him like he was the very air she needed to breathe. And the way she’d pulled him closer by his tie…It was just enough to foster a small hope that maybe, just maybe, she might have feelings for him too. 

He just hoped those feelings were strong enough to forgive him for throwing himself at her without her consent. He’d kissed other girls as ruses before, but this was Riley, and it was different because she’s his best friend and there were uncommunicated feelings involved. Even if it made her uncomfortable, Riley played along with his ruse and totally sold it because that’s her job. That didn’t mean she wasn’t probably pissed. He crossed a line he could never uncross, and no matter what she inevitably said about it, a piece of her hard-earned trust was gone. 

Mac shook his head. Getting caught up in Riley was what got him in this mess in the first place. He needed to focus on finding Desi. 

He shoved thoughts of Riley into the far recesses of his brain and got to work. Starting from the ballroom--where the auction was still going--he tried to retrace Desi’s attacker’s steps. If he was the kidnapper, then he would’ve taken Desi down the hallway to the left. It was, by far, the least traveled, and it had a multitude of doors and other hallways branching off it, providing plenty of hiding places and alternate routes. 

Mac didn’t like working on mere speculation, but it was the closest thing to a lead he had. Whoever took Desi was careful to leave no trace of either person. 

“Okay, Mac.” Bozer said. “In this direction, there are four places they could’ve gone: an out of the way conference room, a janitor’s closet, upstairs to a room, or downstairs to the basement.” 

The conference room seemed too obvious, but Mac wanted to check it anyway. “Where’s the conference room?” 

“It’s-- Hang on. Riley, go straight through the next two roundabouts. Once you’ve gone through the second one, you’ll have crossed into France.” 

“Got it.” 

“Sorry, Mac. The conference room is down the hall, second to last door on the right.” 

“Thanks.” Mac marveled at how Bozer simultaneously juggled helping him search for Desi while guiding Riley through the streets of Monte Carlo--and now, apparently, France. He imagined Bozer at the computer, bouncing between maps and satellite imagery on one monitor and building blueprints on the other. 

Mac checked the conference room and the janitor’s closet. Both empty. He hated it, but he was slightly relieved Desi wasn’t stuffed in the closet. Something about the irony of finding his ex--who was kidnapped while he was in a different closet with a different woman--in a closet made him feel sick. 

Riley’s voice floated over comms. “Hey, Mac! Any leads on finding Desi?” Her calm and collected tone yanked him out of his guilt spiral. It was like she knew he was caught up in his head, even while hurtling away from him at breakneck speed. He silently thanked her. 

“Nothing yet. I’m going to check the basement next.” 

“Riley Davis, you are driving over a hundred miles per hour.” Bozer used his best chastising-mom voice. “Pay attention to the road!” Riley didn’t dignify him with a response, but Mac knew she rolled her eyes and pressed the gas pedal a little harder. 

*****

Riley couldn’t believe her luck when she caught up to Pierre’s blue sedan without running into any cops. She’d been driving well over a hundred miles per hour, weaving around literally every other car on the road without using her blinker like a true Californian. Catching Pierre was hardly different from her daily commute to work. 

Driving that fast, she couldn’t afford to get distracted, so she banished every trace of kissing Mac from her head and focused on catching the con man. 

She tailgated Pierre long enough for him to realize she was following him. He turned off the highway, but Riley was hot on his heels. 

“Bozer! How do I cut him off?” Her plan was simple: let Pierre think he lost her in the streets and cut him off before he could get back to the highway. 

“Take your next left, then an immediate right.” 

Riley let a couple cars merge between her and Pierre. Predictably, he kept going straight, which was the quickest way back to the highway from what Riley could tell. Following Bozer’s directions, she turned onto a parallel street. 

The cars on this road drove infuriatingly slowly--slowly enough that moments from the auction and the goddamn closet clawed their way in from the edges of her mind. As much as Riley tried to ignore and deny it, she had put all her cards on the table with that kiss. 

In doing so, she’d screwed everything up. Before Bozer interrupted them, Mac had been about to say something. A rejection, most likely. Short of verbally confessing, Riley had made her feelings crystal clear, and Mac didn’t feel the same way. He’d played a role to cover their tracks, but he meant none of it. She wasn’t even upset that he’d launched himself at her without asking first. If anyone else tried that, Riley would’ve kicked their ass the moment they had some privacy. But, this was Mac. She trusted Mac. And, if she had said stop, he would’ve immediately stopped, even if it got them in a heap of trouble. 

But, even though she trusted him with her body, with her whole life, she didn’t trust him not to shatter her heart into a thousand tiny pieces that even duct tape and paperclips couldn’t put back together. 

She cursed at a car that nearly swerved into her lane. Riley had no idea what to do next. There was no way Mac didn’t know how she felt, but she felt none of the relief that came with actually confessing feelings. Should she confess, even though she already knew he couldn’t reciprocate? Or was it better to just keep it to herself and learn to let him go? Both options sucked. 

Some part of her knew it was best to just cut her losses and break her own heart, but she wasn’t ready to go down that road just yet. 

In addition to her situation with Mac, Riley had no idea what to do next in a literal sense. Bozer had been eerily silent for the last couple minutes. 

In the distance, the street came to a dead end. “Bozer…”

“TURN RIGHT!” 

Riley nearly jumped out of her skin, but she skidded around the corner and mentally flipped Bozer off. He really needed to work on giving better directions. 

Riley brought the car to a screeching stop in the next intersection, blocking Pierre. She put the car in park, flung her door open, and stood, pointing a gun right at Pierre’s face. 

“Pierre! Get out of the car and put your hands up, or I’ll shoot.” 

“Shoot?” Bozer asked. 

“Since when do you have a gun?” Mac followed. 

“It’s Desi’s spare,” Riley explained, “now shut up!” 

She wiggled her gun at Pierre, something she’d seen Jack do a thousand times. Pierre, smartly, did exactly as she commanded. Slowly, he stepped out of his car and raised his hands up by his head. Keeping her gun trained on his chest, Riley walked toward Pierre, stopping only a few feet away. 

“Miss Jackson,” Pierre babbled, “I’m sure we can work something out.” 

“Cut the crap. Who do you work for?” 

“I work alone.” Pierre didn’t seem to be lying. If he worked alone, then who the hell took Desi? 

“Tell me something.” Riley stepped closer. She still wasn’t all that comfortable with guns, but mercifully, her arms held perfectly still. “Do you consider yourself good at your job?” 

“Of course, Mademoiselle.” 

“Then tell me why a skilled con man would try to pull such a pathetic, obvious scam.” 

He gave her the same sick smile he’d given her at the pool. Riley really didn’t like this guy. Schooling her expression into cool boredom, she raised the gun and pressed it to his forehead. “I’ll only ask once more. Who hired you?” Pierre’s eyes widened, realizing who was the predator in this situation and who was the prey. Good. Be scared, Riley thought. Maybe then you’ll give me better answers. He didn’t need to know that she wouldn’t actually shoot him. 

“Okay, okay! Let’s not get hasty. I was hired by a man named Viktor Petrov to run this specific job. He supplied the locket and the chip.” 

She didn’t dare lower the gun. “I need more information than that. Who is he?” 

“I don’t know. He hired me to run it, and gave me ridiculously specific directions, like he didn’t trust me--a professional con man--to successfully run a con. Oh, and he let me keep all of the profit from the sale of the locket. That’s all I know, I swear.” Riley was pretty sure he was telling the truth. 

“Riley,” Bozer said in her ear, “I’ve got Interpol agents closing in to pick up Pierre. Did he tell you anything useful?” 

“I’ve got a name, but it’s a common one.” She eyed Pierre. Even with a gun between his eyes, he shamelessly dragged his gaze up and down her body, taking in her fitted, navy gown and Mac’s gray suit jacket. Her stomach churned. 

Behind her, a pair of Interpol agents announced their presence. Riley breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to endure Pierre’s creepy staring anymore. 

Slapping handcuffs on the con man, one of the agents said, “We’ll take it from here.” Riley waited until Pierre was securely in the agents’ car before returning to her own. 

She prayed their only lead wasn’t a dead end. 

*****

Mac had nearly cleared the whole laundry room before finding Desi unconscious and slumped against a washing machine, wrists and ankles zip-tied together. A rag was tied over her nose and mouth. Shit. Shit. Shit. He yanked the rag off and checked her pulse. She’d been drugged--a quick sniff confirmed his chloroform theory--but she was alive. 

He cut the zip ties before shaking her shoulder to wake her up. After a few minutes, Desi groaned and cracked her eyes open. “Hey,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve got you.” 

She mumbled something, and it took Mac a moment to realize she’d said “I know him.” 

“Know who?” 

“The man who did this.” Desi coughed. “I...we hooked up once.” Her voice was high-pitched and loopy; she was high as a kite. “Okay, maybe a lot more than once, but before you judge, you need to know that he’s really hot.” Desi tried to sound stern but failed miserably. “Viktor Petrov. He’s a mob boss who poses as an art collector.” Mac checked her for injuries while she explained. “I didn’t find out about the mob boss part until later...about five minutes before he discovered I was a spy. It was all downhill from there.” No shit, Mac thought. “He must’ve been at the auction and recognized me.” 

“Then let’s get you out of here before he comes back,” Mac said, hauling her to her feet. 

“Goo--I think I’m going to puke.” Mac dutifully held her hair back as she hunched over and vomited on the floor. He couldn’t help but think this was his fault. If only he’d been paying attention…

Not even looking at him, Desi snapped, “Give yourself a break. This isn’t your fault.” 

“It feels like it is.” 

Desi straightened up. “I know a hundred different ways to take someone out with just my bare hands, yet I still got drugged and dumped in a hotel laundry room. It happens to the best of us. The important part is that you found me, I’m fine, and now it’s time to move on.” 

Move on. She didn’t know him at all if she thought he could just move on. First he’d fucked up his relationship with Riley, then he fucked up keeping his partner safe, all in the span of a few minutes. He was on a high speed train of fuckery that only crashed at the end of the line. 

“Let’s go,” Desi commanded. 

They stumbled back to the suite without any trouble.

#Beth writes #riley+sunglasses+undercover #MacGyver #macriley #mac x riley #Angus MacGyver #riley davis #macgyver fanfiction

[suppressedanxiety]

I mean, for everything that's been happening right now (and skipping over his past attack), Virgil seems to be holding himself together pretty well! Poor boyo though, I wonder how long that's actually gonna last. All of this has got to be weighing on him!

Anonymous said: Hey Virge, don’t let this messed up experiment get to you. You ARE important to Thomas. It’s not your fault Logan and Roman don’t think so.

Virgil shrugged, busy trying to shove the mattress off the bed frame to expose the box spring below. 

He figured if he jumped on it at the right angle, he could snap one of the boards in half, the way a seven-year-old Thomas had when he was being too rowdy jumping on the bed. He had no idea what he was going to use a sharp chunk of wood for, but getting some kind of tool was better than sitting around doing nothing, especially in the strange silence in the room. 

That would give him too much time to think about the fact that Thomas was apparently getting on just fine without him. What was he going to do if it turned out he really was better for Thomas stuck like this? Get manhandled and ignored for the rest of his existence? 

No, he had to believe that the study meeting was a fluke. There were probably a hundred little things that went wrong that Logan didn’t notice, and when he got back to normal, he would have to do so much damage control. 

It was terrible, the fact that the thought of damage control was almost relieving. It would mean having at least some control, which would be a definite improvement over his current state. 

@just-some-gt-trash said: VIRGIL PATTON’S IN THE ROOM!

@hotchocolatehugs said: Virge, you gotta shout to let Patton know you’re there!!!

Anonymous said: NOOOOO Logan made that stupid glass cage soundproof!!!!! Virgil please go out of bed and give a look! Patton I know that Logan isn’t really a type to get a pet but why would he keep something like a cage if not for it!!! Search it maybe you’ll find something unexpected that need your care @~@

He only caught the door opening out of the corner of his eye, but it was enough to send a flash of panic down his spine. Sure, he hadn’t done anything particularly incriminating yet, but Logan was smart, and if he thought the bed was an escape opportunity, there was no doubt in Virgil’s mind that he would take it away. Leaving him stuck out in the open again. 

He sprang to his feet, twisting around as though he could shield the displaced mattress behind him from view, but before he could blurt out some excuse, he finally registered who exactly had come in. 

Seeing Patton at this size was a shock all on its own. He’d never felt threatened by the moral side before, but there was certainly a first time for everything, because his throat nearly closed up at the sight of him towering in the center of the room. Patton was talking, but there were no words to accompany the movements of his mouth. That strange silence again. 

Virgil abruptly realized that this could be his chance. Patton was here, for whatever reason, and there wasn’t any proof that Thomas didn’t need him yet, and surely the moral side would object to such behavior? Even to a Dark Side? 

“Patton!” He yelled, scrambling over to the closest glass wall. He slammed his fist into it for good measure, and the noise reverberated around him. “Patton, hey, it’s me! Patton! Please, please let me out!”   

To his shock, Patton didn’t even look at him. His eyes skated over Virgil as though he wasn’t even there, searching the room for a different Side entirely. Virgil took a hesitant step backwards as Patton moved closer to the desk, his breathing labored. 

… Why was Patton here? He was holding a plate, but Patton wasn’t the type to go bring people their meals for no reason, not when he could have them all down to eat at the table with him. Even when Virgil or Logan refused him flat out, he would just leave leftovers in the fridge for them to eat at their own initiative. 

As though summoned by his thoughts, Patton actually placed the plate down on the desk, only a foot away from where Virgil stood. It was covered with portions of homemade mac and cheese, roasted sweet potatoes, and pepper steak, all favorites of his, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. 

No, his gaze was riveted on the small, pastel sticky note on top, the one that read ‘For Anxiety

His throat felt like it was closing up. Patton knew. Patton already knew what was going on, had probably been told over breakfast, or had figured it out on his own and just didn’t care, he already knew and now he was flat-out ignoring Virgil’s pathetic pleas for freedom. 

Virgil’s legs gave out from under him, and he slumped against the wall of his enclosure, taking short, shallow breaths. Even Thomas��s Morality was sure this was for the best. There wasn’t any doubt or remorse in Patton’s gaze when he looked at him. Of course there wasn’t. He’d known it all along, inside, no matter how he spat and lashed out at the others.  

Every part of Thomas’s mind agreed; Virgil wasn’t necessary. 

Anonymous said: PATTON! Look at the table! Please! It’s a matter of life and death. Or at the very least, stable mental health !

Anonymous said: PAT! PAT! CHECK THE BOX!! DONT WORRY ABOUT PRIVACY I CAN *PROMISE* YOU THIS IS IMPORTANT FOR YOU TO LOOK AT! ITS FOR THE SAFETY OF ANOTHER SIDE ~💙

Patton hesitated for a long moment, searching the room despite knowing that there wasn’t anywhere big enough for Logan to be hiding, but in the end was forced to concede: the room was, for all intents and purposes, unoccupied. 

He cast one last glance at the desk, where the plate he’d made sat lonely amidst the papers and books, and quietly shut the door after him.

#asks #anonymous #theatresweetheart #just-some-gt-trash #hotchocolatehugs #((*drops virgil on the ground* aw shit i broke him. sorry guys)) #((you didnt really think itd be that easy did you?)) #chrono

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch24 : Like The Old Man Said...Together

Summary: The Avengers track Ultron and it’s a race against time before the AI can put his plan into action.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW) violence and crazy assed robots. Oh and “Something dramatic, I hope!”

A/N: As part of SSB’s Birthday celebrations I added in another few scenes I cut from this originally. It makes it a little longer but I hope you enjoy.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist 

“I’ve put the boys to work.” Laura said, gesturing out of the window as Katie chewed on her grilled cheese. She’d had a good 4 hours sleep and was feeling much better after that and a scalding shower. She glanced across the lawn area to where Steve and Tony were positioned at the side of the house, both holding an axe, stood by a stack of large logs and two piles of smaller logs.

“You got Tony doing manual labour…” Katie grinned at her, “Well played.”

She chuckled and then began to chat to about her plans for dinner. “Clint suggested comfort food. fried chicken and Mac and Cheese to be specific”

“You’ll win Steve over instantly. “Katie grinned, “I’m happy to help, lot of people to feed, not to mention Stevie eats enough for 3!”  

“You wanna take her up on that.” Clint said as he walked into the kitchen and opened a drawer near the door “She’s a damned good cook is our kiddo…obviously, not as good as you babe.” he added as a quick afterthought. “Smooth Barton…” Katie laughed. Laura threw a tea towel at his head as he pulled a tape measure from the drawer. He left through the backdoor, still laughing, the kids trailing behind him.

Katie stared at the back door as it shut, the normality of the scene suddenly hitting her. He had a wife, 2 children, and still managed to hold down the ridiculous lifestyle the Avengers and SHIELD demanded.

“How do you do it?” she asked Laura suddenly. The woman placed the last plate on the sink to drain and straightened up. “I mean this, it’s so ordinary.” she turned, once more looking out of the window. She watched Steve swing his axe, his light blue Under Armour skin top clinging to every part of his torso.

“It’s possible…” Laura said, standing behind her as she followed the younger woman’s gaze “you know, to have a domestic life…well, a variation on one, away from the mess.”

“Problem is the pair of us are tangled in the mess.” Katie said, not taking her eyes off Steve.

“Well then, you should understand each other more.” She said, before she changed the subject “Here, they could probably use a drink. You wanna take em that jug of ice tea for me?”

“Sure.”

A minute or so later Katie crossed the lawn with a tray sporting a full jug and 2 glasses towards where both men where stood by the decreasing mound of large logs and the two increasing mounds of smaller ones.  Steve’s pile of cut logs was significantly bigger than Tony’s, which was hardly surprising. And the pair of them were bickering which was also not surprising.

“Is that a problem?” Steve asked, picking the two halves he had just cut up and throwing them onto his pile, bristling slightly at the fact Tony was digging into why he wasn’t as affected by the Maximoff’s visions as everyone else. Truth be told he had been affected, big time, but since he and Katie had talked it through he felt better. But he wasn’t about to tell anyone that, frankly it was no ones’ business what any of them had seen bar their own.

“I don't trust a guy without a dark side. Call me old fashioned.” Tony shrugged

“Well let's just say you haven't seen it yet.” Steve glowered at him, his temper starting to rise. He couldn’t help but feel pissed at Tony, because if it wasn’t for him they wouldn’t even be in this mess.

“You know this is what he’s trying to do right?” a soft voice said and Steve turned to see Katie setting a tray of drinks down behind them. They both turned to look at her “Ultron is trying to tear us apart.”

“Well I guess he'd know.” Steve said, jerking his head in Tony’s direction “Whether he tells us is a bit of a question”

“Banner and I were doing research-”

“That would affect the team” Steve said, picking up another log. His voice was gaining momentum, and Katie let out a groan, she knew he was getting angry.

“That would end the team” Tony said simply, “Isn’t that the mission? Isn't that the "why" we fight, so we can end the fight, so we get to go home?”

Without so much as a huff of noise, Steve ripped the log he was holding apart with his bare hands in a fit of temper that aroused Katie far more than it should have done. Tony raised his eyebrows slightly and Steve’s chest heaved as he regained his composure. He turned to look at Tony and spoke, his voice calm and measured.

“Every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die. Every time.” he said softly but sternly, trying to make his point. Loki, Hydra, SHIELD with Insight.. now this.

“I'm sorry. Mr. Stark,” Laura headed across the lawn towards them all. “Uh, Clint said you wouldn't mind, but, our tractor, it doesn't seem to want to start at all. I thought maybe you might...

“Yeah, I'll give her a kick” Tony smiled at Laura then as he turned to leave he looked back at Steve delivering his next line with the air of a petulant child “Don't take from my pile.”

“You know if he wasn’t your bother…” Steve said, reaching for a glass of tea, draining it in one and leaving his sentence hanging. Katie took a deep breath and stood up.

“Cut him a bit of slack yeah?” her eyes flashed “The Maximoff girl. She got to him too.”

Steve looked down at her and frowned, that was news to him. “But I thought…”

“It was the day we found the sceptre.” Katie said. “She got to him in Strucker’s lab only he didn’t know what it was at the time. And you wanna know what he saw?” her voice wasn’t angry but she levelled Steve with a look that left him with no uncertain terms she was defending her brother “He saw us all dead because he hadn’t tried hard enough.”

Ok so now Steve felt like shit.

“That’s what Ultron is about, that’s why he started it again.” Katie finished

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” Steve said gently

“Well now you do.” she said, shrugging and deciding to change the subject “Oh, and by the way…what you did with that log back then…” she mimed pulling something apart. “… kinda turned me on a hell of a lot more than it should.”

He grinned and stepped towards her, closing the short distance they were apart “Well…if we go back inside I can...”

“Nice try… you have wood…” Katie pointed the logs

“Yes and I’d kinda like to do something about it!” he quipped.

“Steve!” She spluttered out through her laugh, as she hit him in the chest, mentally making a note toe have words with Sam for teaching him innuendoes and street slang

He stepped back, laughing and rubbing at the spot where her hand had connected with him. He cocked his head playfully to the right, and was about to say something else about the fact he was feeling pretty horny on account of it being a few days since they’d last enjoyed one another seeing as his plans for her and that tight blue dress had been interrupted post the party, but Katie’s attention was taken by something else.

“Lucky!” she grinned crouching down to pet the dog who was jumping all over her, giving out little barks “man you got big…” Steve looked down at his girl and the sandy coloured dog, frowning as he noticed it only had one eye.

“Is this the pizza eating puppy you talked about?” he asked, bending down to pet the dog. “Sure is…” Katie grinned standing up as the dog ran off back to Barton after he whistled. “Not so much of a puppy now though.”

She smiled and made her way back over to the house. Steve looked at the pile of logs, then her, then back and picked up his axe again.

Inside, Katie started to help Laura with the dinner, the pair of them working together easily. Steve and Clint joined them in the kitchen not long after, both men sitting at the table with a beer as Lila scrambled up onto Steve’s knee, Steve waving away Clint’s instruction for her to leave him alone, he didn’t mind one bit. Katie had noticed the small girl sat there, talking to Steve and she’d smiled and turned back to her cooking. She was just rinsing off the salad when she looked up out of the window, seeing something that she really wasn’t expecting.

“I don’t believe it…” she said as she watched Tony and the tall, bald headed man with the trench coat and the eye patch walking up the path towards them. She turned to Clint and Steve “We got company…” Both men stood up as the door opened, Lila jumping of Steve’s knee, the soldier’s hands went to his hips, his mouth forming a thin line as his eyes fell onto the man in front of him.

“At ease Soldier…” Fury said, a smile creeping across his face as Tony walked into the room behind him muttering about traitors, Maria Hill and ‘Goth Pirates’

****

“Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time.” Fury said glass of water in his hand as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “My contacts all say he's building something. The amount of Vibranium he made off with, I don't think it's just one thing.”

“What about Ultron himself?” Steve asked, he was stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the door frame, arms folded.

“Ah. He's easy to track, he's everywhere. Guy's multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit. Still doesn't help us get an angle on any of his plans though.”

Tony shoved the last piece of the chicken he had been eating in his mouth and walked to the sink to pick up a towel to wipe his hands. “He still going after launch codes? “

“Yes, he is, but he's not making any headway.”

Katie frowned from her seat at the table, opposite Natasha. “Well that doesn’t make sense. Tony cracked the Pentagon's firewall in high school for a dare”.

Tony smiled fondly at the memory. That had earned him an ass whooping and a half from his dad.

“Yeah, well, I contacted our friends at the NEXUS about that”. Fury continued

“NEXUS?” Steve questioned.

“It’s the world internet hub in Oslo” Banner explained, he was stood behind Natasha leaning against the sideboard. “Every byte of data flows through there, fastest access on earth.”

At that point Lila ran into the room, a piece of paper in her hand.

“So what'd they say?” Clint asked, turning 3 darts over in his hand from his stance a few feet away from Fury.

Lila handed the piece of paper to Natasha, who looked at her, then the paper, grinning and gave the little girl a one armed hug. She placed the paper down on the table and Katie noticed that it was a watercolour paint picture of a butterfly.

“He's fixated on the missiles,” Fury said, draining his glass of water “but the codes are constantly being changed.

“By whom?” Tony questioned. At that point Clint threw the darts straight past Tony, about an inch or so away from his ear straight into the bullseye of the dart board. Tony spun round to glare at him, Clint shrugged apologetically, grinning at the same time. Hawkeye by name, Hawkeye by nature.

“Parties unknown.” Fury said, a puzzled tone to his voice

“Do we have an ally?” Katie asked.

“Ultron's got an enemy, that's not the same thing.” Fury said looking at her “Still, I'd pay folding money to know who it is”

"I might need to visit Oslo, find our "unknown."” Tony pondered, to no one in particular.

“Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that.” Natasha sighed, leaning back in her chair.

“I do.” Nick said, looking round the room. “I have you”

Everyone shared a look round the room at one another. None of them were feeling particularly useful if truth be told.

“Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else.” Fury continued “Yet here we all are, back on Earth, with nothing but our wit, and our will to save the world. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard.”

“Steve doesn't like that kind of talk.” Natasha said, looking at him.

“You know what, Romanoff? “ Steve said, his tone dead pan. She smiled mischievously.

“So what does he want? “ Fury continued.

“To become better. Better than us.” Katie said, looking round.

“Right, he keeps building bodies” Steve agreed

“Person bodies. The human form is inefficient, biologically speaking, we're outmoded.” Tony mused “But he keeps coming back to it” 

“Yeah, when you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed” Katie said, looking over at Tony then to Bruce, who was looking at Lila’s drawing over Nat’s shoulder, his arms folded, a thoughtful look on his face.

“They don’t need to be protected, they need to evolve.” the Doctor said, not looking up. “Ultron's going to evolve.”

“How?” Fury asked.

“Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?” Bruce looked up around the room.

There was a pause, and then all at once there was a flurry of activity. Tony whipped his phone out and began to dial, Nat and Katie both stood up, Clint hurried out of the kitchen and Fury was also talking to someone as Steve and Bruce began discussing the intricacies of what Ultron was likely to want Helen for, which centred around the regeneration cradle, a larger version of the technology that had healed Clint after he had been shot when retrieving the sceptre.  

“If Ultron is really building a body...” Steve trailed off as they all prepared to leave,  his voice dropping

“He'll be more powerful than any of us. Maybe all of us.” Katie sighed.

“An android designed by a robot” Tony finished.

“You know I really miss the days when the weirdest thing science ever created was me.” Steve raised his eyebrows. Katie and Tony both smiled gently.

“I’ll drop Banner off at the tower. Do you mind if I borrow Ms. Hill?” Fury said, pulling on his trench coat.

“She's all yours, apparently.” Tony shrugged “What are you gonna do? “

“I don't know. Something dramatic, I hope.”

Katie found herself slightly concerned that the threat of Fury doing something dramatic didn’t worry her half as much as facing Ultron.

*****

Clint expertly piloted the Quinn Jet low enough for Steve to drop onto the roof of the U-GU-Gin Genetic Research Lab roof.

“Two minutes. Stay close.” Steve instructed as the jet roe again to hover above the building away from any eyes.

A few moments passed and then the crew on the jet heard Steve shout “Dr Cho…are you hurt?”  There was a bit of a conversation which they didn’t hear, but then Helen’s voice came over the comms loud and clear, if a little strained.

“The gem, its power is uncontainable. You can't just blow it up. You have to get the Cradle to Stark.”

There was another pause before Steve’s voice spoke clearly ”Did you guys copy that?

“We did.” Clint said.

“I got a private jet taking off, across town, no manifest.” Katie said, looking at the computer screen in front of her. “ That could be him.”

“There!” Clint said, loudly pointing out of the front window of the jet. Both Natasha and Katie moved so they could follow his gaze. “It’s the truck from the lab. Right above you, Cap. On the loop by the bridge.”

The jet scanned the truck, confirming they suspicions with the imaging that they all saw on the monitor.

“It's them.” Clint continued “ I got three with the Cradle, one in the cab. I could take out the driver”

“No.” Katie said sharply. “If what Helen is saying is right, that truck crashes, the gem could level the city.”

“We need to draw out Ultron” Steve said. 30 seconds or so later there was a loud bang and he followed up his commentary. ”Well, he's definitely unhappy! I'm gonna try and keep him that way.”

Katie looked down to see Steve was clinging onto the back of the truck and her heart skipped a beat. Making a decision she strode to wing space of the jet and pressed her palm to the pad besides the large locker that contained her suit.

“You’re not a match for him Cap…” Clint said

“Thanks Barton!” he replied, sarcastically.

“We need to get down there, give him some back up…”  Katie called, turning round to look at Nat as she stepped backwards, allowing her suit to form around her.

“Ok.” Clint said, nodding “I’ll give you the cover up top.”

Nat took off her headset and joined Katie in the equipment store, pushing a small coms piece into her ear. She headed to the back of the ship, straddling the motorbike that was propped up at the side.

“He’s lost his shield…” Clint said, “I’m gonna drop you as close to it as I can.”

“Roger…” Katie continued with the final checks to her suit, without JARVIS she was flying this thing herself, just as she had been at Klaus’ base so she needed to make sure everything was right. Clint steered them down towards the road.

“We got a window. Four, three...give 'em hell.” Clint said, pushing the button for the ramp. Natasha sped the bike off and dropped down with a squeal of tyres before taking the jet higher.

“Us girls are always picking up after you boys.” She said gently and Katie headed to the back of the ramp, her scans watching as Natashai picked up Steve’s shield, following Clint’s commentary.

“They're heading under the overpass, I've got no shot” Clint said

“Which way? “ Nat asked.

“Hard right... Now.” Clint instructed. Natasha did as she was told. As Clint hovered over the top of them Katie shot out from the back of the jet and swooped down just as Natasha threw the shield up to Steve. Steve caught it and instantly flung it, sent the AI flying backwards. Ultron wasn’t down for long, jumping up and resuming the fight as Katie landed behind the Robot as he sent a blast of power at Steve, who instantly held his shield up as he was catapulted backwards onto the bonnet of the car behind. She fired a repulsor at the AI, turning his attention to her as he wheeled round and shot back. She flew out of the way as the shot hit the car behind, the screeches of brakes and grinding of metal hit her ears as cars collided.

“You Starks are like insects …” Ultron said, groaning “Annoying and irritating…”

“Yeah well, some insects pact a bit of a sting…” She said, sending out a static pulse from the shoulder of her suit. It immobilised him for a good few seconds, which was long enough for Steve to climb back onto the top of the truck, hitting him once more with his shield. As Ultron fell forward towards Katie she jumped up, kicking out with her boot, pushing him down into the metal of the truck before landing.  Ultron regained control of his functions and the 3 of them began to fight, Steve and Katie dodging the rays of power as they flew at them, Ultron easily deflecting the beams the Supernova suit sent his way.

“Clint can you draw out the guards?”  Nat’s voice came over the comms.

“Let's find out.”  Clint replied simply.

Katie fired another static pulse towards Ultron, but he easily deflected it and shot once more at her as she spiralled away.

“You think I’d let you get me with that again?” he growled.

“No but, made you look…”  she grinned, and at that point Clint shot the jet downwards and it fired off a few shots at Ultron, deliberately missing the delicate package the truck contained. It worked and as Katie watched 4 Ultron Sentries fly out and follow the jet upwards. Ultron turned and flew at Steve who spun, slamming him into a concrete pillar by the side of the road. Katie swooped in, firing again but Ultron was ready and caught her with a beam causing her to spin blindly through the air.  With no JAVIS to help, it took her a while to regain control but eventually she righted herself just in time to see Ultron spear at Steve, the two of them crashing into a nearby moving train. She shot forward, putting all her power into her thrusters, speeding up to catch it.

"Heading back towards you, whatever you're gonna' do. Do it now." Clint informed over the coms as Katie dropped down so I was level with the train, looking into the windows.

"I'm going in, guys can you keep him occupied?" Natasha questioned as Katie finally caught up with the right carriage to see Ultron sending Steve flying again, landing hard against a metal door.

“What do you think we’ve been doing!”  Steve said, shaking his head, as once again he stood up, and resumed his fight with the AI as Katie shot a beam through the window, catching the robot unawares and causing him to fly out of the side of the train.

As she flew in through the window, the AI came crashing through one a bit further up and the two of them shot at one another, the beams hitting in mid-air and deflecting off one another, blowing a hole in the roof of the train.

"The package is airborne." Clint informed us, "I have a clean shot."

"Negative I am still in the truck." Natasha said.

"What the hell are you doing?" Katie yelled, as Ultron sent a bench of seats towards her, which she blasted out of the way.

"Just be ready, I'm sending the package to you, Clint!"

"How do you want me to take it?" Clint asked sarcastically as Katie looked up through the hole in the roof to see the truck way above them.

"Uh, you might wish you hadn't asked that."

At that point Katie was floored as Steve landed heavily on top of her, having been blasted off his feet by Ultron.

“Ow…” he muttered, rolling over and off the top of her. Katie groaned as her head bounced off the inside of her metal helmet and hadn’t even had chance to right herself when suddenly she was lifted off her feet as Ultron’s hand crushed at the neck of her suit.

"Like I said, insect…”  He practically growled, his grip tightening as she raised both her palms to fire, blasting them both backwards, in opposite directions as Katie crashed into the carriage behind. She sat up and shifted the debris and shot forward, as Ultron came again but he was sent backwards as a blur knocked him off balance- the male Maximoff twin. Ultron took a menacing step forwards and the metal guards shifted red and bent in front of us in a protective manor. The female, Wanda, stood behind Ultron, hands outstretched and glowing red. Ultron turned towards her.

"Please, don't do this." Ultron pleaded with her.

"What choice do we have?" Wanda countered.

Ultron turned back around and fired in Steve’s direction. Katie was quicker though, pulling him out of the way as the front of the train blew out. The AI then blasted out the side door and escaped.

"We lost him!” Katie said into her comms, face plate sliding back as Steve made his way to the front of the train, reaching over the driver. “Clint, Nat He's headed back towards you."

“Nat we gotta go…”  Clint said.

Steve turned back to Katie, shaking his head, he could find no pulse. The driver was dead and the train was out of control heading straight for the end of the line.

“Nat… NAT? Cap you guys see Nat?" Clint questioned worriedly.

"If you have the package, get it to Stark! Go!" Steve commanded, looking up instinctively as Katie reached his side.

"Do you have eyes on Nat?" Clint questioned once again.

"Go!" Steve ordered once again and it seemed Clint obeyed because there was silence on the other side of the coms. Katie looked at him, both of them worried about our friend but equally knowing they had to tackle the problem in hand. The train crashed through the stoppers at the end of the line and carried on, heading straight through the narrow streets.

"There are civilians in our path." Steve turned to Pietro, once more resuming command. He nodded and sped off in a blur.

"Can you stop this thing?" Katie asked Wanda. She looked unsure but nodded and blasted red tendrils down into the underlining of the train.

It began to slow, but nowhere near enough for them to avoid the building they were heading straight at. Katie slid her face plate back and Steve held his shield out in front of them, protecting them from the impact, and they felt the train starting to slow down, before it eventually came to a steady stop a moment or so later in a street lined with small trading stalls and shops.

As the passengers scrambled to get off the train Steve and Katie remained where they were for a second, Katie’s face plate once more retracting.

“You’re bleeding…” Steve said gently, wiping at her brow.

“Least I’m still here…” she said, shaking her head. “What about Nat?”

“We’ll find her.” He said, looking her in the eyes. “I promise.”

He slung his shield onto his back and the pair of them exited the train. Katie spotted Wanda stood next to her brother who was resting against a wall breathing heavily, hunched over with his hands on his knees. As they approached he looked up at Wanda, waving her away

"I’m fine,  I just need a minute." He assured her.

"I'm very tempted not to give you one." Steve snapped, giving the twins a hard look. The two Maximoffs shared an uneasy glance

"The cradle? Did you get it?" Wanda asked.

"Stark will take care of it." Steve told her, his tone still clipped.

"No he won't." Wanda said incredulously.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Katie glared at the girl

"He will do anything to make things right." Wanda implored.

Steve turned and gave Katie a questioning look before he spoke into the coms.

"Stark come in. Stark? Anyone on coms?" The only response Steve got was silence. He looked at Katie who tried as well, getting nothing but static. She then tried to route through her phone, but there was nothing there either.

“Ultron can’t tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it.” Wanda pressed “Where do you think he got that from?”

Katie took a moment to look around, squinting against the sunlight. People were gathering, chattering in Korean and pointing at the train stretched down the middle of the road.

“I saw into his head.” Wanda implored “I saw what he has planned. It’s not what he said, not what he told us he wanted.”

“Oh and what did he say he wanted?” Katie asked, turning back to her, her arms folding across her chest.

“He said he wanted peace” the boy, Pietro spoke.

“Oh, well…” Katie snapped, looking round nodding and clapping her gauntlet clad hands together sarcastically “Good job”

“Look…” Steve stepped forward a little before his girl lost her temper, his hands grasping the buckle on his utility belt. “This isn’t about sides, or what’s happened before. It’s about how we shut Ultron down.”

"So - what happens now?" Pietro asked.

"That depends on you," Steve answered, putting his shield on his back, keeping his stance non-confrontational. "You've worked with Ultron; you know how he thinks. We could use the help stopping him."

Wanda snarled, lips curling back over her teeth. "We won't work with Stark."

"Well, you kinda have two options." Steve retorted immediately, before Katie had chance to. The authority emanating from him was immense, his eyes steady. "You work with us, or work with Ultron. Your choice."

Katie looked up at Steve as the twins both exchanged glances. Eventually she got fed up and sighed.

“I’m going back to check on Dr Cho.” she looked at Steve “And then I’m going home to figure out how we find Nat…”

“Katie… wait…” he said as she started to walk up the narrow street

“I’m done waiting Steve.” she snapped “And seeing as you don’t seem to want to give things a second’s thought, why should I?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” He frowned, running to catch up with her.

“You work with us?” she imitated his voice. “How do you know that she isn’t in our minds, right now, and this isn’t some elaborate scam to get us right where Ultron wants?”

A breeze whipped her hair slightly, and Pietro stood at Steve’s side, Wanda in his arms.

"You move too slow." the young man taunted looking at them. "We'll meet you at Cho's office."

Katie let out a loud groan of annoyance and walked and out onto the main road, looking around. Steve took a deep breath, she was angry, he knew that. His girl held a grudge, far better than he ever could and he had a feeling that Wanda Maximoff wasn’t going to get round her with a simple apology. But they didn’t have time for that, they needed to get home, find Nat and figure out Ultron’s next steps. And the Maximoffs would be helpful.

Sirens were now flooding his ears and the Emergency services were all over the place, freeing people from the cars, crashed buses, you name it.

“Could use a ride…” Steve said, turning to her and raising an eyebrow. She glared at him for a moment, before sliding her face plate back down. Without saying a word she gripped his harness at the top above where it held his shield and propelled them both into the air.

Dr Cho was going to be ok. Thankfully. The Scientist kindly offered them the use of her QuinJet, which technically belonged to Tony anyway, but they were grateful nonetheless. As Katie thanked the man who had led them to it, Steve turned to the Maximoff twins.

“Go on…”  

Katie felt her mouth drop open as Wanda hesitated and looked to her brother who simply nodded and the two of them boarded.  Katie watched them incredulously before she rounded on Steve and he winced, awaiting the barrage which hit him full pelt.

“I can’t believe you seriously want to take them back to base.” she hissed at him.

“I told you before, they can help.” he replied calmly.

“You’re out of your mind!” She said, shaking her head, the petulant child in her well and truly rearing it’s head “You know what actually, if they’re going, then I’m staying here.”

“For God’s sake Katie…” Steve said, exasperatedly running his hand through his hair, his helmet hanging in his left hand “You’re being unreasonable…”  

“I’m being unreasonable?” she rounded on him, her cheeks flushing with anger. “You’re the one who wants to take them right into the middle of our base, give them access to all our technology, when we don’t know if they’re still working for Ultron or not!”

“Katie, just get on the fucking jet now.” his voice was low, but he was angry.  He didn’t have time for this shit, he was tired, worried, and just wanted to get them all together so they could find Nat and end this and she was behaving like a total brat.

Katie looked at him, his eyes were flashing and he had a look on his face she couldn’t ever recall him using on her before. It was enough to shock her into compliance, but only after she shot him the dirtiest glare she could, before she stormed onto the jet.

2 hours later and Katie still hadn’t spoken a word to Steve or anyone else for that matter, she was fuming. Pietro and Wanda had been mostly silent up until that point, exchanging the odd bit of chatter between themselves in Sokovian, but neither approaching either of the other two until Pietro came to the cockpit.

“Miss Stark…I’m sorry, but please, do you have a spare jacket… my sister is cold.”

Katie glared at him, then looked to the back of the jet where Wanda was sat on one of the chairs, her knees pulled up to her chin. Damned it, despite everything Katie felt a small pang of pity for her.

“Sure, just give me a second.” she said, a little gruffly but less angrily as she stood up out of her seat.

Steve had to smile, despite everything she wasn’t callous, and she knew what it was like to be cold and frightened. Katie glanced down and caught the look he was giving her and she glared at him.

“I will slap that smirk right off your face...” she threatened. Immediately he held his hands up, palms facing her in an “I’m sorry” motion and she walked over to the back of the jet and started looking in a few of the cupboards. Eventually she found a black fleece jacket, emblazoned with U-Gen logo, along with a blanket. In one of the other cupboards she found bottles of water supplies along with some snack bars and bags of chips.

“Here…” she walked over to Wanda and handed her the jacket and fleece.

“Thank you.” She said, pulling the fleece around her.

“You hungry or need a drink?” Katie offered.

They looked at one another.

“I’m not going to poison you.” she rolled her eyes.

Wanda nodded and Katie handed her a bottle of water and Pietro took a granola bar from her and a bag of chips. Katie glanced at the twins and then suddenly had to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue.

“Why do you hate us so much, the Avengers?” she blurted out. Steve turned his head slightly so he could listen in.

“I don’t hate the avengers. I hate your brother. Well I did. I don’t know maybe I still do.”

“But why?” Katie said, puzzled “You don’t know him, or me for that matter.”

“Our home was bombed.” Wanda said, looking at her hands “It hit 2 floors below and blew a hole in our floor. Our parents fell but Pietro grabbed me and we rolled under the bed.” “The second one hits.” Pietro continued gently “But it doesn’t explode. It just sits there, three feet from our faces. And on the side of the shell is painted two words...” “Stark Industries…”Katie said gently, suddenly understanding. She didn’t know what to say. That part of Stark Industries had always been one she had never had much to do with and had always absolved herself of any guilt because she stayed away from it, but she had long since realised that didn’t absolve her from any blame at all.

“You know we shut the arms side of the business down once we both realised the damage it was doing…my brother is a good man, maybe he doesn’t always get it right but he tries.” Katie sighed.

“But that is my point.” Wanda pressed “Ultron…he wants world peace, but he thinks the way to do that is to kill people, innocent people…”

“That’s not what Tony wants” Katie pressed

“But he created Ultron…” Pietro joined the conversation

“Yes, because of you!” Katie said earnestly

“Sorry, because of us…” “You made him see something, in Strucker’s lab. A vision, a vision of all of us, all of the Avengers dead, the world ending and he was left alone because he didn’t try hard enough to stop it.” at that point Wanda and Pietro exchanged glances as she continued “You made him believe he needed to do something, something more and Ultron was the result. He was supposed to be the thing that Tony thinks we need, something to bring peace…”

“You know, maybe we aren’t that different to Stark after all.” Pietro said, breaking the moment or so silence that had descended. “I mean, we volunteered for Hydra…”

"They said that they would make us super-human, like your Captain America over there.” Wanda said, sipping her water and Steve’s eyes flickered over the back of the jet for a moment before he turned back to the front. “Then we could fight…”

“They didn't say what it would cost.” Pietro spat “The experiments. The constant pain.”

“Guess we all made bad decisions for what we thought were the right reasons…” Katie shrugged “What matters now is how we fix this mess.”

With that she left them to it, taking her drink and one for Steve to the front of the jet.

“Thanks…” he said gently

“I assume you heard all that.” she said, a little clipped.

“Super sensitive hearing Doll, what can I say.” he smiled. She rolled her eyes.  “You still pissed at me?” She raised her eyebrow at him, and with a teasing note chastised him “language.”

He smiled and taking a drink of water, he looked back out of the front window of the jet.

An hour or so later they managed to get through to Clint on the coms.

“Any news on Nat?” Katie asked him.

“I’m trying the old fashioned way…” he said, “That should avoid Ultron. I’ll find her”

“I don’t doubt it Hawkeye.” she smiled.

“What about Stark and the cradle?" Steve asked.

"In the lab with Banner, why you ask?”

Katie glanced at Steve, his jaw set tightly but that was the sum total of the reaction from him. He didn’t want to voice what was on his mind and risk pissing her off even more. Instead he chose his words carefully.

“Just… well, the twins told us what’s in that Cradle and Ultron’s plans for it. I’m worried Tony could start something he doesn’t understand.”  “Twins? The Maximoffs?” Clint asked and then he let out a groan “You’re bringing them here aren’t you?”

“You gotta trust me on this one, Clint.” Steve sighed “They’ve seen Ultron’s end game. They want to help us fight him.” “Yeah well I’ll make my own mind up on that one, I’ll see you when you get back.” “Great…” Katie sighed “Now he’s pissed as well.”

**** “I’m gonna say this once!” Steve’s voice was loud

“How about "nonce"?” Tony shot back.

“Shut it down!” Steve pointed at the cradle.

“Nope, not gonna happen.”  Tony shook his head.

There had been a bit of a fight in the lab, shields being flung, repulsors fired, and then Thor had turned up, supercharged the cradle, and it had gotten even stranger when a red man, an android had emerged.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, in JARVIS’ voice "That was, odd. Thank you." He added nodding respectfully to Thor, before his unnervingly human-looking eyes trailed over Thor thoughtfully. Then he rolled his shoulders and a cape of his own appeared and flowed down his back.

"Thor, you helped create this?" Steve asked

"I've had a vision, the world, where it starts, all hope and life and at its centre, is that." Thor responded pointing to the gold stone in the middle of the man's forehead.

"What the gem?" Banner asked in confusion. Thor nodded.

"It's the mindstone," he explained. "One of the six infinity stones, the greatest power in the universe and it is unparalleled in its destructive capabilities."

"Then why would you bring it to life?" Katie asked, taking a deep breath, folding her arms.

"Because Stark is right." Thor said.

"Oh, it's definitely the end of times." Bruce sarcastically to Tony's shocked but proud expression.

"The Avengers cannot defeat Ultron." Thor continued and the red man politely cut in.

"Not alone."

"Why does your vision sound like Jarvis?" Katie questioned still cautious of this new being.

"We reconfigured Jarvis' matrix, to create something new." Tony walked up towards his masterpiece and examined him.

"I think I've had my fill of new." Steve replied sarcastically.

"You think I am a child of Ultron." The red man stated rather than asked.

"You're not?" Steve replied suspiciously still glaring.

"I am not Ultron." He said simply, "I am not Jarvis. I am…" he looked down at his hands as if they would hold the answer.

"I looked in your head," Wanda stated stepping towards him, "I saw annihilation."

"Look again." Vision responded in the same simple tone.

"Ha, her seal of approval means jack to me." Clint snorted, Katie found herself inclined to agree.

"Their powers, the horrors in our heads, Ultron himself, they all came from the mindstone.” Thor said, looking round “And that is nothing compared to what it could unleash, but with it on our side-"

"Is it?" Steve cut Thor off then turned aiming his next question at him towards the red man, needing to hear confirmation "Are you, on our side?"

"I don't think it's that simple." Vision answered truthfully.

"Well it better get real simple real soon." Clint said seriously.

"I am on the side of life," Vision continued, "Ultron isn't, he will end it all."

"What's he waiting for?" Tony asked.

"You." He stated easily, looking around at us all.

"Where?" Katie pressed.

"Sokovia." Clint supplied helpfully. "Yeah, he's got Nat there too."

Katie looked at Clint who raised his eyebrow slightly and he shrugged. He’d found her, just like he said.

"If we're wrong about you," Bruce said approaching the man. "If you're the monster Ultron created you to be…"

"What will you do?" The red man asked and Bruce stayed silent.

"I don't want to kill Ultron, he is unique, and he's in pain," Vision paced slowly around the room, "but that pain will roll over the earth, so he must be destroyed. Every form he's built, every trace and presence of him. We have to act now. And not one of us can do it without the other."

He turned back to look at everyone in the room individually, then he did something completely unexpected as he picked up Thor's hammer from the table. Steve felt his eyebrows raise in shock whereas Katie was looking at Thor, her mouth open, the god was wearing a look of utter confusion.

"There may be no way to make you trust me, but we need to go." Vision finished holding out the hammer for Thor to take. Thor took his weapon back and the man walked away.

There was a moment of silence before Thor coughed.

"Right, well done." he said awkwardly patting Tony on the shoulder and followed the red man out of the room.

"Three minutes, get what you need." Steve announced.

*****

“Ultron knows we're coming. Odds are we'll be running into heavy fire, and that's what we signed up for, but the people of Sokovia they didn't. That's why our priority is getting them out. All they want is to live their lives in peace, and that's not going to happen today. But we can do our best to protect them and get the job done. We find out what Ultron's been building. We find Romanoff. We clear the field and keep the fight between us. Ultron thinks we're monsters, and that we're what's wrong with the world, but this isn't just about beating him, it's about whether he's right."

Steve certainly felt like he was right when he descended down the ramp and the first thing he saw was a huge mural of himself on a wall to his right. If he hadn’t been so concerned with the word, “fašista” scrawled across it, he might have given some consideration to the fact the art work was pretty good. He looked at the painting, before turning and tossing his helmet back into the jet, almost hitting Katie as she walked down the ramp. Frowning she looked at him, spotted the paining and gave a sigh. She knew that would have upset him.

But whether they liked Captain America or not, the people of Sokovia were getting his help and that of the rest of the Avengers too.  Thor and Bruce went underground to Strucker's base to find Natasha and the Vibranium, Tony and Vision went off to locate where Ultron was and confront him so that Vision could do his part. The rest of them focussed on the evacuation, if this was going to end in a fight as it always did, then it was best to get the civilians out of the way as soon as possible. Steve dispatched Clint to a rooftop to oversee events from up there and Katie headed off with Wanda to the bridge that led out of the city. She could feel the younger girl's panic even though she did well to try and hide it

"Do you see...the beauty of it? The inevitability. You rise, only to fall. You, Avengers, a meteor. My swift and terrible sword. And the earth will crack with the weight of your failure. Purge me from your computers, turn my own flesh against me. It means nothing. When the dust settles, the only thing living in this world will be metal."

They seemed to be fighting forever, and Sokovia was getting higher and higher. Just as everything seemed lost and the group looked to be faced with an impossible decision after Tony pointed out that the only thing he could think about was blowing the city before the impact radius got too big. Steve was adamant he was not leaving the city with one civilian on it, when Katie smiled sadly and turned to him.

"I didn't say we should leave." she said softly, and she could feel Natasha looking at her as well from where she stood on her right. Katie turned to Steve, as he looked down at her "There's worse ways to go." she said responding to his silent question, her chest heaving resigning herself to the fact that they might not make it out of this alive, surprised the thought didn’t frighten her more at that point.

"She’s right," Natasha said and Katie turned to look at her. She shrugged and nodded out at the clouds “Where else are we gonna get a view like this?”

"Glad you like the view, Romanoff."  all 3 of them started at the very familiar voice that came through the coms. "It's about to get a whole lot better."

That's when the helicarrier came right into view and Katie smiled, her eyes filing with emotion as she felt the relief swell in her chest.

“So this is your ‘something dramatic’?”  she quipped and Fury gave a hum of confirmation.

"Nice, right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She's dusty," Nick Fury said nonchalantly. "But she'll do."

Katie looked round and noticed that Pietro had joined us, looking at the ship.

"Fury, you son of a bitch." Steve spoke in almost a whisper while shaking his head.

Fury let out a whistle before responded to Steve teasingly. "Ohhh hooo, you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Their fight led them to protecting the Vibranium Core that was situated in a church which was in the dead centre of the City and of course Ultron followed them. As The Avengers surrounded their precious charge, Thor yelled out to the AI.

"Is that best you can do?!"

Ultron picked his hand up, and what seemed like a million robots began to advance towards them.

Katie groaned, and looked at Steve as he turned to look at Thor, annoyance all over his face. "You haddda ask." He deadpanned, his Brooklyn accent coming out as it often did in these situations, and Thor at least had the decency to look sheepish.

"This is the best I can do." Ultron continued on. "This is exactly what I wanted. All of you against all of me. How can you possibly hope to stop me?"

"Well, like the old man said," Tony said, and Steve turned to look at him over his shoulder "Together."

Hulk then let out a loud roar as the swarm of robots attacked.

The robots began running into the church by the hundreds it seemed, but everyone was ready. Arrows, fists and Steve’s shield flew, repulsors, guns and shock sticks fired, speed and red tendrils of power ripped them apart from the inside, lighting flashed and the Hulk smashed. Eventually Ultron joined the fray and Vision flew at him. Ultron punched Vision into the wall but he retaliated by using the mind stone in his forehead to shoot at Ultron making him stagger back and out of the church.

Vision didn't let up as Thor, Tony and Katie joined the android with lightening and repulsor beams respectively. The Starks surged their arms forward, unloading all the power they had in their suits and the 4 of them combined melted away the outer layer of Vibranium that covered Ultron, which was when they stopped. He could be taken out easily now.

"You know, with the benefit of hindsight – " Ultron began to say but Hulk roared then punched him so hard he went flying across the city.

Hulk growled at the remaining robots who immediately turned and ran away.

"They'll try to leave the city." Thor called out.

"We can't let them, not even one." Tony spoke frantically, calling on their other eye in the sky. "Rhodey..."

"I'm on it!" He announced over the radio. “Oh no, I didn’t say you could leave…War Machine coming at you.” there was a pause as Vision flew in to help, phasing and ripping one of them apart “Ok, what?”

"We gotta move out." Steve spoke as those of them left on the ground re-grouped. "Even I can tell the air is getting thin. You guys get to the boats. I'll sweep for stragglers…”

“I’ll come with you…”  Katie said. For some reason she didn’t want to leave him, or more to the point him to leave her.  Steve looked at her, and he understood, he really did. If there was a chance they were getting separated he really didn’t want to take it but he wanted her on that carrier, away.

“You go and make sure everyone gets out.” he said “I’ll be right behind you, I promise."

He’d never broken a promise to her yet, so she took a deep breath and nodded.

"What about the core?" Clint asked while turning to look at it.

"I'll protect it." Everyone turned to Wanda, giving her a worried look. "It's my job." She clarified nodding to Clint. Clint inclined his head towards her, before he turned to leave.

“Nat…” he said as Steve started to usher everyone bar Wanda out of the church. I threw one last glance over at Wanda before Katie turned to Steve.  

“Be careful.” “I always am…” he grinned.

“Liar.” she muttered watching him go, before she took off again, looking down at the devastation on the ground below. This was far worse than New York. Far worse than Washington. It was horrendous, and Katie wasn’t sure how the people of Sokovia would ever recover.

Clint skidded the car he had been driving to a halt by the lifeboats and Katie landed besides them. There was a roar and she glanced to her left, noticing the huge form of the Hulk throwing around debris of the various robots.

“We don’t have a lot of time…” Clint looked at Natasha meaningfully.

“So get your ass on a boat…” she shot back, jumping out of the car.

Clint and Katie then set off, ushering the last civilians around them onto the last boat as they went. Katie spotted Thor stood a little to her left, his head turned over to his right as Steve appeared from inside a building.

“Thor, I'm gonna need you back at the church." Tony said over the coms.

Thor nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see Tony and then looked at Steve, breathing heavily. "Is that the last of them?" He asked him.

"Yeah," he answered instead, quickly looking around at the evacuations taking place, spotting Katie and Clint boarding the boat "Everyone else is on board the carriers."

"You know, if this works, we maybe don't walk away." Tony said quietly, cutting Katie out of the coms temporarily so as not to worry or upset her.

"Maybe not." Thor agreed in a whisper.

At that point Clint sprinted back past them, but before either of them had time to follow him to help a hail of gunfire suddenly erupted where they standing. Steve held his shield up just in time and Thor dived to the side to avoid the bullets that had luckily been fired in a straight line between them all.

But it was Katie who noticed first what had happened. As the dust settled she saw Clint stood, with a little boy in his arms. He’d clearly tried to shield him from the bullets but it was Pietro that was standing there with bullet holes riddling his torso, the blood seeping through them.

“No… “ she muttered her pleading growing more frantic as she flew over to where they were stood “No, no, no…”

"You didn't see that coming?" the blonde man attempted to joke weakly then wobbled before falling face first and Katie caught him as she landed, just before he hit the ground. She laid him down gently and looked him over.

“Friday, life signs…”.

“Negative…” she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

Katie bowed her head slightly before my face plate slid back and she looked up at Clint. The pair of them exchanged a glance before Steve knelt down and closed Pietro’s eyes.

“I’ve got him…” he said gently, as he bent down and picked up Pietro as easily as if he was a small child. The three of them headed back to the airship, Clint with the little boy in his arms. Once on board, Steve lay Pietro down gently on the floor, where Katie sat by him, her suit making a clunk as she slid to the floor. Clint groaned as he lowered himself onto the row of seats behind her. Someone walked over to see if they needed any medical help but Clint waved him away.

“No, no I’m fine…” he said, lying down across a few seats, his hand resting on the metal shoulder of her suit. “oh it’s been a long day…”

Steve stood on the rock for one final look round, he couldn’t see anyone. But then, with a lurch the city fell with huge force and he turned and gave a jump, grabbing onto the platform of the ship as the city fell.  He pulled himself up onto the deck and stood up to see, lightning flashing from the sky. As he watched, the city of Sokovia exploded from the inside out crumbling to pieces and raining down heavily into the ocean below.

He turned to see Katie was stood a few feet away, looking down.

“Tony? Thor?” she said, “Wanda?” Nothing.

She looked over Steve, biting her lip.

“They’ll be ok…” he said, although he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

There was a slight lurch as the ship they were stood on docked with the hellicarrier and they turned to help Clint but he was already walking, carrying the body of Pietro with him. Katie jumped down onto the tarmac, deactivated her suit and made her way over to Maria Hill who was stood with another agent, directing them where to take the walking wounded, medics running onto the ships to deal with the more seriously injured in situ.

“You guys alright?” She asked as they walked over to her. Katie nodded and then spoke again into her coms. It was a relief to see Wanda’s red hair sat on the deck a few yards away from one of the ships, Vision having pulled her out of the city in time.

“Any news from the others?” Steve asked. Maria sighed.

“Natasha is on the bridge, Banner, I mean the Hulk, he got her out in time but…he went off in a jet after Ultron…I got nothing from Thor or Tony…”  

Katie turned to look out over the sky, the airborne dust making her cough slightly as she scanned the clouds, waiting for a sign or anything from her brother.

“He’ll be ok…” Steve said, dropping a hand onto her shoulder. “He always is.” “One day he won’t be.” she said, looking up to face Steve

“Maybe, but that aint today…” a familiar voice rang in her ear and she let out a sigh of relief as her brother spoke. “Kiddo, I think we just won again…”

*****

Refugees crowded every corner of the flying base, sitting in the halls, huddling together, terrified. The dust in the air meant SHIELD couldn't connect to their mainframe or satellites, and the internet-based translators were down. Every person on board who knew even a smattering of any Slavic language was being recruited into helping settle the homeless Sokovians.

Fury was meeting via telecon in one of the conference rooms with the Sokovian political leaders, who were not pleased at being dragged from their homes in Novi Grad in the wee hours of the morning only to then watch their nation destroyed. So with Fury busy, Steve and Katie had to tell Tony about Bruce.

That hadn't been fun at all. Her brother had struggled back to the helicarrier, with barely enough power left to make the landing, Thor hot on his tail, soaked to the skin and staggering with a nasty head wound. Steve helped him inside where he was led to a medic bay and they had all retreated to the comms room where Nat was stood in a corner, staring at a blank screen.

"Where's Bruce?" Tony demanded as soon as he got his helmet off. "We've got to figure out…" He trailed off, seeing the expression on Katie’s face. Then his eyes flashed across to Natasha. The woman hadn't moved a muscle in ten minutes, standing in a corner and staring straight at the wall, back to the rest of the room.

"Tony." Steve's voice was heavy. “He’s taken off… we can’t reach him.” “And I don’t think he wants us to.” Katie added. She had barely finished her sentence before Tony bolted across the room to the computer banks, heedlessly shucking off bits of his armour as he went.

"No," he shook his head, fingers flying across the keyboards. "No, I can find him. I can do this, I can bring him home."

"It was cloaked." Natasha's voice was very even, with absolutely no inflection. She didn't stop staring at her wall. "Your own cloaking devices. And SHIELD's secret tracker was disabled in the fight."

Tony's hand slipped, hitting a bunch of things Steve was sure he hadn't meant to. Swearing hopelessly, he stared blankly at the useless screens.

"Why?" he demanded, very quietly, the furious brokenness in his voice made my heart ache for him. "Why would he…?"

The unfinished question hung heavy in the dusty air. Steve was the one who answered.

"Because," he said, swallowing "When you're in the air, and you're carrying something that will destroy everything you love, that's all you can do. You do go down, and you take it down with you."

Tony’s hands curled into fists, anguish in his snarl. "This isn't the same as your golden boy sacrifice play, Cap. No bombs on that quinjet."

"No, no bombs." Steve said gently, his hand on Katie’s arm as he noticed she’d been about to chastise her brother for his venomous jibe, and he shook his head softly as he dragged his gloves back on over his bruised and bloody knuckles, flexing his hands.. "Just himself," he finished quietly.

"Veronica failed, Tone” Katie said gently, understanding at once what Steve was getting at, Bruce’s actions suddenly making sense “ He didn’t want to come to Sokovia and I guess, well he didn’t want to risk hurting anyone again, and he saw a way out."

Natasha turned on her heel and pushed past them, her eyes wet as she made for the door.

“Nat…” Katie said gently, turning to watch her go. She shook her head, signalling she wanted to be alone as she left. Katie looked up at Steve who hung his head sadly.

But there wasn’t time to think on it. Fury arrived at that moment, clearly pissed at something. He explained to the group that after the explosion that tore Ultron's plans to shreds, he had been set to take the helicarrier to a refugee camp in a nearby country but the Sokovian officials had refused, insisting they be set back down in what was left of Novi Grad. Steve nodded and told Fury to do as they wanted.

"This wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for us." Steve's jaw was set, and his arms folded. "We owe it to them Fury, like it or not."

Fury hadn't liked it, at all, but he didn't have much say in the matter - not when Steve had that look on his face.

“This isn’t going to be nice…” Steve muttered as the pod had descended back to the ground.

“I know.” Katie said. “But we face it together, right?”

Novi Grad was an absolute mess. Most of the city had been torn up by the roots, and the rim that was left hadn't escaped unscathed either. Buildings had toppled from falling debris and the initial ground-shaking wrench. Water and electricity were out, phone lines were down, and the streets were clogged with cars and people. Children choked on the thick air as parents tied whatever cloth they could find around tiny mouths, trying to protect their lungs.

It was thankless, numbing work. Most of the civilians avoided them, casting wary glances out of the corner of their eyes. A few swore or spat, some cried, but after a while it began to get difficult as a particular group started to get violent, screaming as they threw things at the 4 Avengers. It didn't cause much damage to the Nova or Iron Man suits, but the rocks soon started getting bigger. Katie heard a yell and turned to her left to see Steve stumbling forward, hand clamped over the back of his head. He fell to his knees and Katie moved over to him, dropping besides him.

“Shit…” he mumbled as she heard Thor give a roar.

“Let me see…” she said gently, as Steve winced, shaking his head.

“I’m fine…” he said, getting to his feet, hand still clutching at the back of his head.

Katie glanced up at Tony, who had completely lost his patience.

"Ungrateful brats," he said loudly after the young hooligans who had immediately scarpered after Thor’s show of anger. "Look, why don't you head back to the carrier, see what the next step is?"  Tony curled his gauntlet clad hand over Steve’s shoulder as his face plate retracted. Katie looked at her brother, thankful for his suggestion.

Steve shook his head, but even as she did so she saw him sway a little.

“Sweetheart, you’re bleeding…” she said gently, and he looked at his hand. “At least let’s clean you up…”

Steve didn't want to go, but he gave into her as she whispered “Please.”

"Five minutes," he relented at last, and allowed her to lead him away.

*****

As Katie shed her suit, Steve sat on a chair in one of the hellicarrier kitchens, one of the few rooms that wasn’t being used as a makeshift hospital or treatment bay. There were no spare medics so Katie grabbed some gauze, antiseptic and a couple of steri-strip bandages. He would heal pretty fast anyway.

“You know you should have had your helmet on…” she said gently, suddenly realising he hadn’t had it on for the entire time they had been in Sokovia having tossed it back on the jet when he saw the graffiti picture of himself when they first landed. He shrugged and didn’t reply, but he flinched hard when Katie lightly touched the lump at the back of his head.

“Sorry…” she said gently as he waved away her apology, head bent as she cleaned the blood off his hair.

“Doesn’t hurt as much as what they were calling me.” He mumbled, and Katie paused.

“Which was what? I didn’t hear them.”

“fašista” he said, “Fascist.” His shoulders slumped and sudden angry tears stung at Katie’s eyes, but she blinked them back and swallowed the hot anger swelling in her throat. This was a man who had put his life on the line countless times to fight the very things that people were calling him. She leaned forward, slipping my arms around his neck, connecting them in front of his chest as she bent to lay her face against his cheek.

"At the risk of sounding like an old man, everybody's so young these days," Steve said at last as he turned his head to face her "Has it all been forgotten, or have I really become...?"

Katie cut him off, her eyes on his, faces inches apart. "They've forgotten," she assured him firmly. ”You could never be like those monsters. But people, well they can't imagine – I find it hard at times. We never lived through it, never knew what it was like. History books and lessons can only do so much love."

Steve's fingers laced between mine, "'Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,'" he whispered heavily.

"True," she said gently as he rolled his head round to face her “But that's why there are people like us, people like you. You will always remember, and because you do, you help us do our best to keep the rest of them safe."

She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before she straightened up and continued to tend to the wound on his head. It wasn’t as deep as it had looked and was already starting to heal anyway. She checked to make sure there were no fragments of the brick left behind and when she was satisfied she dropped the bloodied gauze into a bin and turned to face him.

"I shouldn't have taken Banner.” He said, and Katie took a deep breath “I knew he was low, but he said he wanted to come, he wanted to help find Nat."

"You can't blame yourself for his choice," Katie reminded him. “He’s a grown man…” Steve didn’t say anything more about it, instead he stood up and took a deep breath. “Come on, let’s go see what’s happening.”

Katie followed him into the corridor and as they turned to head through a service door to use the maintenance walkways, she spotted a small figure huddled at the other side, knees pulled to her chest.

“Wanda?” Katie said, stopping to crouch next to her. Steve knelt down at the other side of the young girl, as she turned her face to look at her. "I'm sorry about your brother," Katie said gently.

Her face twisted suddenly, and she laid her head on her knees, hair falling around her face. Steve looked at Katie before he shifted, reaching out and lightly putting an arm round her. She didn't pull away, instead she lay her head against his chest.

"You know," he said at last, when the silence between them all felt a little less fragile, "You're welcome to stay with us for as long as you want."

She sat up straight and drew back. "At Stark Tower?" she asked, mouth pulling into a half-hearted expression of distaste. Katie sighed.

"At the Avengers Tower," she corrected quietly.

Wanda surveyed her for a moment, and then lowered her eyes and clenched a hand over her mouth.

"I wish I could tell you that it gets easier," Steve told her after a minute. “It won't, not right away. But you don't have to do this alone. We got your back, Wanda.”

Her face crumpled. Then she cried. Katie threw her arms around her and she turned to her, sobbing into her chest. 

*****

It took almost two days for relief services to arrive at Sokovia. Steve felt dirty, tired and desperate for a hot shower and his own bed and he wasn’t alone. None of The Avengers had changed in 2 days. All their extra equipment had gone on the missing Quinjet with Bruce, including the change of civilian clothing everyone tried to keep on hand. But their discomfort paled into insignificance when he glanced over at Wanda as they landed at the tower. Katie guided her up to the spare room, ensured she had what she needed and then instructed her if she needed anything else, all she had to do was ask Friday, who would contact her immediately. Wanda nodded and Katie left her to be a lone for a while.

When Katie got back to her floor Steve was already in the shower, and the bed had never looked so inviting, which was why she couldn’t wait to get into it. Stripping off her filthy cat suit and her underwear she walked into the bathroom which was filled with steam and stepped into the shower behind Steve, her hands straying round to the front of his chest, simply laying her head against his back. He didn’t flinch, he simply grasped her hands in his, pulling her closer and dipped his head slightly as she nuzzled into his shoulder, the grime from the last few days whirling down the plug hole as the water rained down on them. Without speaking Katie grabbed his shampoo, and gently as she could massaged at his hair. Steve gave a soft moan, relishing at the feel of her nails on his scalp, happy to bliss out for a moment. He turned to face his future wife, tipping his head back to rinse his hair off and smiled tiredly as he dropped his head to kiss her softly.

“Turn round” he said gently, and she did as she was told as his hands wound into her hair, repaying the favour. She closed her eyes and leaned back into his touch, the intimate moment also serving as a perfect relaxer so much so that she didn’t object when things started to get a bit heated. This was always how things went with them both, they sought solace in one another, the physical relief of losing themselves with someone they loved was how they coped, how they stayed grounded, reminded ourselves that they weren’t alone.

His hands travelled down her body, her back pressed to his chest as his fingers reached between her legs, finding her spot. She moaned, arching back into him as his other hand caressed her breast, his arousal pressing into the lower part of her back and she lazily rolled her head to catch his mouth. As the hot water cascaded down onto them he took her to the brink before he spun her round and lifted her easily, pressing her back onto the cool tiles. He thrust into her without warning and she groaned, her hands gripping his shoulders as he began to pump in and out, his head falling to her collar bone as he gave a soft nip. With each roll of his hips Katie felt her pleasure beginning to mount, soft moans falling from her lips as she dropped her head to his shoulder, the feeling in her stomach beginning to overwhelm her.

“Look at me Doll” he said gently, and she opened her eyes, emerald gems locking onto his as he saw her mouth open, lips part in a soft cry as she came, a deeper groan bubbled over in her throat and her  head slid backwards. Steve would never get tired of seeing her like that, ever. It was the most arousing thing in the world to him. His pace began to quicken and he followed shortly, the tight bands in his stomach snapping as he pressed her harder against the wall as he rode out his release.

When they had finally finished in the shower the pair of them were almost dead on their feet. They dried off, Katie shucked on one of Steve’s T-shirts and clambered into bed with him. Neither had any idea what time of day it was but neither cared, the blackout blinds sent the room into darkness. Katie lay her head on Steve’s chest, his hand slid up the cotton of his shirt and he gently ran his fingers up and down her spine.

He managed to do it about twice before the pair of them were out for the count.

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#stark spangled banner #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #captain america #tony stark #iron man #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #hawkeye #thor #bruce banner #hulk #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #nick fury #maria #shield #fanfic #fancfiction

[alchemisland]

The Moors Mutt III

Night fled day. Before the others rose I read the sky. Spying an uncharacteristically vernal mustard sliver, I imagined another world past the clouds, opposing ours directly, and their rising summer sun.

God, shrouded in cancerous sadness,  could but weep. Too weak to conjure flame.

The storm, furious mute, spoke through man's works, droplets exploded musically; dull on timbers, shrill on sheet, like crackling fire on thatch.

Foot travel was impossible, even treacherous. Lar wouldn't have it. 'I know someone. Unpaid tab, lovely spacious wagon. Hold tight.'

Unpaid tab, yes. Lovely wagon, no. Against the rising slope, his contraption strained. Its light frame shed water. The man knew his charge and kept us steady. Hold tight proved apt phrasing.

When the carriage wasn't veering towards fatal tip, I dismantled the day's duties into gelded chunks. Easy. Ten manageable tasks. Ten had a ring to it. A certain motivating roundness. Ten tasks set to Heracles condemned to misery by jealous Hera. Ten commandments from on high.

The day passed quickly. I worked mostly absent of mind, scanning peeling labels for keywords. I napped again at some indeterminate point, rising to the first red flares of evening.

Near freedom, the final banality seemed yet more soul destroying. Fortunately it proved easy, simple scribbles to confirm a job done. Mac donned, packed bag overshoulder, I signed the final form with a flourish.

On the doorstep, gazing out at the torrid tempest I was to endure, and again the following day, for a brief moment Cairn Cottage seemed inviting.

I cast a final backward glance. Inside Acrisian frames, there lay my ancestors in oils, frozen in perpetual offence.

As discussed, Charon on his chucking carriage arrived and ferried me back to Sperrin.

Outside the tavern, wet as it was possible to be, I waited. I don't know what I hoped to see. Some queer curiosity took me. I wished to see how they spoke without me. Maybe it was awkwardness that prevented an unannounced arrival. I pressed my ear to the door. Lar told a joke and howled with laughter, joyous overmuch at his own humour. When I entered I hovered in the open doorframe, dripping like a swamp witch. A wave of relief swept over Lar, which he wrestled into a piteous pout.

Two drinks waited, patient as unconfessed sinners. When I peeled off the mac, he flashed a one-sided smile. I muttered a reluctant thanks.

We feasted after. A meal to see us off. For strength, we ate lashings of gravy thickened by meat juices, steaming Yorkshire puddings, slabs of succulent pork, bog mushy peas, and custard to follow.

Afterwards, we reclined swollen. When the small crowd shifted, Fergus rose to slip the bolt unbidden.

My mind was in custardy. I was eaten witless. I wondered had Lar planned the old stuff and sneak.

'Are we, as lantern thieves, away with the light?' Lar undid his top trouser button and grew an inch before my eyes.

'We are.'

'Handled a gun before?' That old chestnut. Long I had anticipated such a discussion.

'I have and don't intend to again. Hate hate hate them. Listen, speaking of, we need to talk about this whole thing.' Lar's brow furrowed. 'I believe with alternate ends, disagreements arise.' I thought carefully and he waited patiently. 'This isn't a fox hunt.'

'I never said it was. You seem a bit peeved actually. If I can be bold, why hate the gun and not its wielder? Is a rifle always an instrument of terror no matter the context? On the shoulder of an adventurer piercing the interior, emboldened by its weight, is it the selfsame tool that greedily dispenses random death in the hands of a deranged person? Say a rifle, bought with pacivity in mind, never packed to shoot, merely to brandish and quell cooling tempers, where do you class that?'

Nobody is perfect and there was the proof. When it came to criticising people en masse, Lar was your man. Less evident was his enthusiasm when the crosshair turned to his own private club. Gunfans, gunmen, - for men they were mostly - whatever their preferred nomenclature, are tiresome, everybody agrees.

Realizing I had zoned out, I nodded extra vigorously at his next points, hoping the nod was taken as a sign of attentiveness and not agreement.

Foam pooled at the corners of his mouth. 'Even if we should not spend a single cartridge, it's a fool that lowers caution in victory! Wear these chains. Be it upon your head.'

I tried to interject, 'Lar, really that's a bit dram-'

He continued unabated, 'Should the beast prove strengthful and beguiling as I suspect, and we its seekers should become gunless hunted, it's not a good look for that book of yours.'

Though admiring of his passion on the subject, I had none to share. 'A gun is a gun. Any given situation is more likely to end in a leaden exchange with guns present, vise a vie, sans guns we are overall safer, despite feeling less protected individually.'

'Right. And when those eviller guns unleash in benign judgement, who better to return fire than kind souls equally armed?' He wagged a finger at my smirk. His voice lowered an octave. He swerved and spat, throwing his arms aloft with such momentum that his knuckles wrapped the timbers.

He paced, every inch of his pulpit touched. Standing again before me, he exhaled the temporary madness.

Fergus rose disturbed, a tremble evident. He vocalised disquiet at our clamour. Lar made his apologies; mine mumbled, Fergus' thoughtful.

He continued 'A thousand fools wait raging. I'll not be one with my arms held aloft in deference to a keeper. Either I should die on spent casings or triumph. Your charisma won't stop bullets or beasts. I'll have Fergus pack a rifle for you. Don't wanna use it, don't.' Empassioned, Lar slammed his hand down on the bar.

'Take your rod, Pilate. We'll see who time vindicates. Have you not heard that he who lives by the sword shall too die by the sword?'

'Have heard you, Judge not?' Pulling aside a rug, he revealed a hatch beneath his feet. Fergus tossed the heavy door to one side with apparent ease and fetched a swaddled armoury, which he laid for my reluctant perusal. I chose a revolver. Six shots, lightweight, swift off the hip. I remember a sense of perceived ceremony, as if my hand should be drawn towards the right snug.

Once I fixed the holster, Lar longed to bequeath a second gift. Claims that my recent experiences left me badly turned on gifts fell on deaf ears. A gift on the house, as he put it. He returned, book in hand, and slapped it face-up on the bar. 'Old Mortimer's Mort Timer' was printed in bold crimson, letters tall as wide.

'If this is a pitiful attempt to convince me guns laws increase gun deaths, it's ill considered.'

'Ignore the cover. Cowboy there is a vessel for universal truths. Makes for a good bedtime story. Try it. If you're still offended tomorrow, we'll debate then.'

Everything seemed less intense once the guns were sealed away. We sank a fifth, then a sixth shortly after.

'Have you a path in mind?' Lar slurred.

'Arrogant I might be, fool not; you know the land better. Speak freely.'

'I have some notions.'

'Notions - mere legless actions! As joint expeditionaries, in name rather than eventual royalty, I offer no pronouncement. What am I paying you for? Hardly your winning anecdotes. We're following your route to success or failure.'

I departed, lifting the flap for myself this time. 'I know the way. See you. First light. Rest well.'

Once abed I turned the book in my hands. Its garish colour lent a faint luminosity which it seemed shameful my hands should dull. I discovered the binding was frayed. The object showed more blemish than the ravages of time; later pages wore blotches. A hypothesis soon formed, which further probing confirmed. This book was licked by the ocean. A sea tome it was.

On the inside cover, faded and difficult, illegible without foreknowledge of the owner, I saw Fergus' name printed, a phyrgian squiggle.

I read it;

Ever hear the story of old Mortimer Considine? He was bold as block letterin', round as a cowerin' brushhog, feared and lovered in equal measure. Them scales was centred for him. Instinctively he knew right from wrong. Round Texas way at one point he was the toughest sonofabitch the world had ever see'd. Papers sid it, wimmin giggled it, smoke signalled it, so it musta been true.

Guns smoking, he toured the land righting injustices, collecting bounties and if rumour holds truth, fathering bastards, later becoming county scourges in their own right. Nothing on their old man though, dull facsimiles, whudever that means. Chaotic he was. Kindly too. Smart as a Greek. Strong as a mountain man, and I hear them Greeks had big boys too.

Now, he was fixing to be the best at shooting after his days out ranging. Tired of hauling baddies in for cash. He wanted hisself a wife and cosy home, young'uns to raise right. Make right some on his past transgressions. Hell, if he had cash enough, as he was heard to say only in deepest cups on full moon nights, when the moon controlled the tides of his tears 'well as them on the beach, he'd seek out his illegitimate sprogs and give 'em something for their hard lot.

Best gotta beat the best. Roving West then East, he rode into town with his holster turned front, making his business clear so to speak. Everyone he'd fought so far he felled easy, like dead trees keeling at a shove. There was big boys, tough men who a punch would never fell. Only the impersonal, devious strength of a bullet would do it, seemed a shame really fer all their liftin' and sweatin'. What finnesse they had in riding and wrasslin' they lost at steels, for Mortimer was quick as cancer and spun like a storm at the whistle, shooting 'em full of steaming holes.

Had himself a reputation now. When he came upon town and rode the highstreet on his black destrier like a demon called from hell, only the toughest mothers dared from the shadow of the awnings. Now this one place he went, or was bound for, he got to hearing was a hovel of wretched rapists and varmint brigands, living in squalor, wallowing in vile hedonism. Imperial in their particular perversions, namely unholy orgies in that there big church built by them mexicans was once this far into the states, them was once from further yonder than Mexico and came upward, with them layered temples like square sandcastles.

Pilgrims passing elsewise in other directions he met, but none going toward. Then he saw it, the black spires silhouetted on the matte of night, which held purple and pink and orange, flashes of winking silver, and all the gold jewels of the firmament. He had no want of killing and no provin' to do with regular folk, so he kept his gun shy in behind, his trenchcoat held firm at his chest with a single button, which he took from a sheriff's waistcoat.

You there, he'd said, so high on his horse he appeared a drawn shadow, as if some perfidious god had set to drawing charcoal on the mirror of the world. Up stole the pilgrim and leapt almost.

Mort?

Nay, giggled Mortimer, almost though. What's yonder?

Pilgrim, without lookin, answered quick, Ain't nothing there and no god. Kindly sort you seem. Can tell from ya eyes. Big ol blue ones like the desert moon at night. Not cold though, blue as magick fire.

Mortimer again requested the name of that spiked tower.

Babel, he says and left.

Babel, Mortimer says and left wondering had he heard that name before. He'd met a guy named Barber once. Polack chap taking his wagon clean through to York. Was that the same word? Maybe. Nobody could kill him, not with a gun. Too fast, too cunnin' at gunnin'. Few years left at the top, at least. If they did it, it'd be ignoble, uncunning and devious. Mind, he was cunnin' at augurin' too. Augured him a plan.

After tracing his steps at a canter, Mortimer spied the same stooped soul, satchel slung on his back, hooded. Pilgrim, he said, help me and I'll pay ye. When the work is done, I'll ferry you safe to your destination.

Deal, said the pilgrim so quick as to be near suspicious.

All the way he walked fast. Faster'n an old man, Mortimer reckined. The man had loped, limped and lounged before, as a man of advanced age, now he sprang more sprightly.

Mortimer had a suspicion maybe. Gut feeling. A gnawing doubt. Not enough too stop him. Reckined he was too cliver 'n devious to get got. That morning when they got close to town and descried distantly, from a rise which he took to be an ancient thing built by them northern southern mexicans, a multitude assembled in the centre of town.

Mortimer turned to his pardner to git planning and found hisself did in, plugged and smoking, a fresh red rosette pinned on his breast. The pilgrim relieved Mortimer of his possessions and stole away back into a fresh day, right quicker than ever he'd gone yet.

That was the story of that there Mortimer.

#horror #creative writing #wattpad #horror writers #writers #writeblr #hellhound #nosleep #creepypasta #creepy #short story #shorts #gothic horror #dark fiction #folk horror #horror writers of tumblr #library of shadows #Spilled ink #Characters #Dialogue #Prose #Writing feedback

[musicalshards]

some things from off-west end heathers (26/07/18)

- jd is SO good, oh man. i feel like in the original cast, jd’s character can be taken less seriously because he goes more for the manic grinning psycho character, whereas jamie muscato’s interpretation was scary. when he snaps towards the end of the show his voice changes into this raw, rough scream-like thing so he’s almost yelling some of his bigger notes. it feels so much more threatening, especially in the moments where he’s holding and fighting veronica, and much less like the UWU MY ANGSTY BEAN character that i ocassionally see in fandom shit, which i thought was great

- carrie hope frickin fletcher. oh man. she was so awesome. i LOVED her veronica, loved loved loved! there were so many little quirks in her performance that were so theatrical and nuanced, little stops and razor-sharp raising of eyebrows; she felt like a really strong, sparky character, even through the heathers slowly turning her into a bitch, her sass and original character quirks still stayed throughout. this is explained terribly, but essentially i loved it

- the heathers were grEAT. just GREAT. oh man, they were so good

- the ensemble were aboslutely tight as BALLS, man! they were incredible and i dont think we realise on cast recordings how much of the songs they sing through to make everything sound tight and punchy. ‘new wave girl’ and ‘stoner chick’ were my favourite

- fight for me had been modulated down a tone or so

- the second verse in big fun was changed, all centred around ‘veronica looks hot tonight!’ it worked really well and i loved it

- instead of the “so it’s salt, then lime, then shot, YOU’RE DONIG IT WRONG” moment, heather mac told her the order, veronica aced it, mac said “you’re a natural! just like my mom!”

- the “quit it jackass get off of me” and the freshman sneaking over the pool fence section was cut

- “sorry but i really had to wake you” was changed to “had to see you, hope i didn’t wake you”

- some of the biggest notes in  veronica’s part the show were cut, which of course is a tad disappointing to not hear live, but you’d have to be superhuman to sing those insane parts without vocal damage anyway, so i totally understood, the songs still went HARD

- after dead girl walking when veronica dreams of heather coming back and thrashing her for the whole martha-pig-vomit scenario, she’s wearing this massive ass red scrunchie that went round her entire head it was hilarious 

- whenever the ensemble come into somebody’s imagined scenario (we the students of westerberg high will die), dream (aforementioned giant scrunchie dream) or general creepy bit (shine a light reprise), they all wore those white frame red-and-blue 3d glasses

- they changed ‘heather touching me’ in me inside of me to kurt and ram instead of a girl :/

- heather chandler running round the stage when she’s going ‘I’M BIGGER THAN JOHN LENNON’ was the funniest thing, she like ran around the characters singing about her and did shitty leaps around the stage it was the BEST

- the new song ‘you’re welcome’ was really great and veronica was a badass. i kinda wanted to see blue live because it’s my #problematic fave, i know it makes light of issues around assault but also the song is so ridiculous and i love it, it was the first song i ever heard from heathers that @pjfangirllvnda shoved into my ear one day with absolutely zero context and i was like what the actual fuck. however, in terms of the show, you’re welcome worked really really well and i think it’s a better song for the show

- because of the aforementioned jd performance, our love is god was incredibly powerful, especially at the end when veronica was like wtf you killed them, you could tell she wanted out but jd was holding her and it seemed like he had her trapped and she looked terrified, his stage presence was so menacing it worked great, you could see him co-ering her into joining in with the final ‘our love is god’s. ALSO ram had a shitty tie and veronica was like “oh i like your tie ram’ (she did the best ever act of OMG YOU’RE SO HOT STRIPPING FOR ME it was brilliant) and he was like ‘thanks, my mom got it for me.’ he’d just taken it off, so he went in the pile of clothes and put it back on. ‘thanks, mom!’

- heather duke’s song was BOSS and included the ‘big swordfight in her mouth’ part, but as a reprise of ‘big fun’ than blue which worked really well. there’s a little reveal in the song, which i won’t spoil (i didn’t have it spoiled for me and i squealed) but it was so GOOD, shoutout to t'shan williams for being so damn great

- dead gay son was so great and the whole audience went MAD when kurt and rams dads started making out

- shine a light had been modulated down a semitone i think. the ‘steve, i’m ending our affair’ was hilarious, she was like “oh god is that your wife,,, and your children?? you bought your entire family to our school assembly?? wellllll this is awkward,, hi i’m pauline,,, hope you’re enjoying the show,,,” miss fleming’s voice was amazing AND they had those light-up books to dance with in the ensemble which was cool

- lifeboat had been modulated somewhere, i could have sworn it went up, i LOVED heather mac’s voice, particularly her vibrato was so well controlled and not just super-fast manic it fitted the mood of the song so well, shoutout to sophie isaacs you’re awesome

- in shine a light reprise, “you don’t deserve to live, go on and bitch and moan, you don’t deserve the dream, you’re gonna die alone” or whatever, instead of repeating the same melody twice, she just kept going up on every line DAMN did i mention she was awesome

- kindergarten boyfriend was never a favourite song of mine but DAMN did jenny o’leary do it justice. there was this big pause when she sang ‘certain girls are meant to be alone’ - she was sat at the top of the upper level of the stage stage with her legs danging over the edge, at that line she stood up and went to stand in the centre of that platform in this big silence it was like the whole theatre held its breath

- meant to be yours was terrifying due to aforementioned jd awesomeness, oh MAN

- my favourite line ‘cheek to cheek in hell with a dead girl walking’ YAS

- i am damaged i think had a lyric or two changed and it seemed like jd was less regretful, more like ‘you beat me there’s nothing i can do’ rather then the kind of ‘i’m playing fair so i’ll stand down because i have some human-like regrets’ that i got from the original cast recording, which again i liked because it feels truer to the movie and the fact that jd is always a seriously messed up guy, not just a #edgy teen

- standing ovation and seventeen reprise as we all cheered off the curtain call was awesome 

- THE BAND WERE ABSOLUTELY AWESOME AS A SAXOPHONIST I WAS WEEEEEPPIIIIINNNGGGG I WANNA PLAY IN THE BAND FOR HEATHERS

- everything was g r e a t and as my first ever live musical i am STOKED it was so awesome

- (bonus: we saw a matinee so there wasn’t anyone doing signings because of the second show later on, but my friend was the only person i’ve ever seen to cosplay martha and she got a photo with jenny just as she was leaving!! how cool is that!!)

#heathers the musical #veronica sawyer #jd #carrie hope fletcher #the other palace #off west end #hannah what the hell #heathers spoilers #idk what else to tag it

[chibinightowl]

Mermen Jason and Dick with human Tim, please

Hello, anon! You didn’t give me much to work with here, so have some merboys and their human friend, Timmy. Fluff and light angst ahead!

~*~*~

Tim glanced around as he walked down the beach, checking to see if anyone was paying much attention to him as he made his way further and further from the more populated areas. Not that it was a crowded beach, especially this early in the morning, but privacy was a must considering who he was meeting up with. He hasn’t seen his friends since last summer and while he can’t wait to see them again, he also knew that not everyone would understand why the Drake heir was friends with two merboys.He suspected Mrs. Mac knew what he was up to and who he would be with. She was scary smart like that and it explained the extra sandwiches, cookies, and juice boxes she put in his backpack. Tim was fairly certain she didn’t know Dick and Jason weren’t human. This was Mrs. Mac though, so it probably wouldn’t faze her in the slightest if he introduced them. She was cool like that, even if she was old.The sandy beach soon grew more pebbled underfoot and a rocky cliff rose up to his right, altering the stretch of sand into something less habitable for people. Jagged rocks appeared in the water and the waves broke around them. Tim climbed up some boulders blocking his path, old and worn and probably from the same landslide that send those rocks out into the ocean. An old warning sign sat crooked in the sand about uneven ground, but Tim was small and nimble and doubted his 60 pound frame would do much to shift things around. His water shoes provided enough traction for him to scramble up and over the slippery stone. After several yards, Tim dropped down heavily onto the sand on the other side. It was like a different world here. Tidal pools ringed the edge of the cliff, shallow and rocky during low tide. There was a narrow sandbar against the back of the pools where high tide brushed the cliff walls, but Tim wasn’t worried about the tide, not with two merboys for friends. Their names weren’t really Dick and Jason, but they were the closest approximation Tim’s human vocal cords could make of the series of clicks and hisses that made up their actual names.The tide was mostly out right now, so Tim set his pack on the sand and withdrew a carved shell whistle that he had strung on a cord to wear around his neck. Jason had given it to him three years ago, telling him that when he came back to blow it in the water so that he and Dick would know to come.  

It’s worked every time.Tim picked his way out along the tide pools to where the waves lapped at the edge of the rocky shelf. Blowing the whistle in the sheltered pools didn’t do any good. It needed open water where sound could travel. He knelt on the rock and small waves lapped at his knees. Taking a deep breath, Tim stuck his face in the water, raised the whistle to his lips, and blew hard. A high pitched sound emerged, echoing oddly in the crash of the surf. Only one blow of whistle was needed, so Tim resurfaced and scooted back a little ways to wait. Last year it had taken two solid hours for his friends to arrive while the first year it had barely been thirty minutes. The sun was higher in the sky and Tim had started exploring the tide pools when he heard an excited shout from the water behind him.Turning, he spotted Dick waving wildly from the edge of the shelf. “Timmy! You’re back!” The merboy was a few years older than Tim and didn’t seem to care in the slightest that he was friends with a younger boy. Tim thought he was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Inky black hair, pale skin, and leanly muscled, Dick would have caught anyone’s attention if he were human. But it was his inhuman features that caught Tim’s eye, like his pointed ears, webbed fingers and sharp claws, and the ridge of scales that ran over his shoulders and down his back. And his fins…Tim swore that one day, he’d find the right color combination of blue and green and black to paint his bedroom walls with. It was such a vibrant and rich color and he couldn’t wait for Dick to climb onto the rocks and into the shallow tide pools so he could see it again. “Dick!” Tim said with a shout, rushing to greet his friend. The merboy caught Tim by the ankle and hauled him into the water, catching hold of him in a tight hug. “You’ve been gone so long this time!” he said, nuzzling into Tim’s hair. “It felt longer than a year.”“I know,” Tim agreed, returning the hug with enthusiasm. He didn’t get a lot of hugs at home except from Mrs. Mac and if there was one thing he knew about Dick, it was that he loved giving them. Jason was always shoving him off, but it was playful rather than mean. “Mom and Dad didn’t want us to come this year, but Mrs. Mac and I eventually won out. That’s why we’re late.”He didn’t say that this was going to be the last time he’d be able to come for a while, possibly even years, because he was going away for school this fall. Nope, that was for later. “I’ll catch you something nice to give her to eat,” Dick said, nodding firmly. “I’m so glad you’re here finally. Jason has been annoying the last few moons, wondering when you’d come.” “Where is he?” Tim asked, twisting around to try and spot the other black haired boy. Sharp claws started tickling his leg and Tim kicked out of reflex, connecting solidly with something below the surface. “Ow!” Jason said, scowling as he rose above the waves, teal eyes flashing in annoyance. “Take a joke, why don’t cha?” Tim scrambled out of Dick’s grip and swam over to the other boy, who promptly dragged him into another big hug. Jason was always very tactile with him, even if he wasn’t with Dick. “You’re late,” Jason muttered into Tim’s hair, his dagger-like nails digging a little too firmly into Tim’s ribs. His t-shirt would have new holes in it. “I’m sorry,” Tim replied, clutching Jason around the neck. “It’s not like I can come and go as I please.”“Stupid human rules,” the merboy said, releasing Tim and helping him back to the rocks where it wasn’t so deep. “You should just come live with us.”Dick nodded in agreement. “We’re old enough to be on our own and you’re not much younger than us. We can take care of you until you’re bigger and have all your adult teeth.” The mer bared his to emphasize his point, revealing sharp fangs perfect for slashing and piercing flesh. Jason poked at Tim’s mouth, trying to look inside. “Do you have all your teeth?” Tim jerked his head away. “Of course, I do!” Mostly. He didn’t think they meant adult molars.“I dunno, your fangs are really dull.” “He’s human, Jay,” Dick reminded him. “Their teeth are different. Remember that ship we explored and found those human skeletons in? All their teeth were like Tim’s.” “You explored a sunken ship? Wow.” That sounded so cool. “All I did this year was go to school and attend boring parties when my parents were home.”

Tim hauled himself back up onto the rocks. Unless there was a way into the tide pools, he’d stay here with Dick and Jason until the waves got a little higher and they could all explore the area. There was always something new and Tim remembered his snorkel so he could breathe properly this year. It looked like Dick and Jason had grown in the last year; they were bigger than he remembered, so they probably needed to wait longer.

Dick stayed in the water, but Jason ducked back underneath the waves before surging out to come to a rest beside Tim. His coppery red scales glistened in the sunlight, but that was not what caught Tim’s attention.

“What happened?” he asked, cringing at the long white scar than ran down Jason’s back and onto his tail. It was huge.

Jason scowled and looked away. “I got a little too close to a boat.”

“Too close, my fins,” Dick retorted. “You almost died. I thought I was going to lose you. That propeller ripped you apart.”

What? No. No, no, no. Tim’s eyes squeezed shut, hands clenching into fists as he tried to process the news. His friend almost died in the last year and he hadn’t known. He wouldn’t have known, not until just now if it had only been Dick who came to see him. There would have been no more of Jason’s crooked smiles or practical jokes. No more of him picking seaweed out of his and Dick’s hair or those little crabs they all enjoyed snacking on that only he was able to find.

Arms wrapped themselves around his waist and he opened his eyes to see Jason pressed against him with his head in Tim’s lap. “Hey. Don’t cry, Tim. I’m okay now.”

“You almost died!” Tim rubbed at his eyes, not realizing he was in fact crying until now. “And I didn’t know because I wasn’t here!”

“Yet another reason why you need to stay here with us all the time,” Jason said, like the answer was as simple as that.

This wasn’t the first time the merboys had made these kinds of comments. They wanted Tim to stay with them, to live and explore the coastal waters as they did. To his mind, it was the perfect life. No more school, no more parties and stupid suits that he hated wearing. He could do what he wanted and just be happy with what each day brought.

But this kind of life wasn’t for him. Not with who he was. He was the heir to everything his parents worked hard for, even if he didn’t want any of it.

Tim sniffed and wiped his runny nose on his arm. “I can’t just leave though. If I run away, people will look for me.” Mom and Dad may not always be around, but if Mrs. Mac reported him missing, they’d move heaven and earth to get him back, even if it was only for appearances.

“We can hide you where you’ll never be found,” Dick said, catching hold of Tim’s hand with his webbed fingers. “Under the surface, no one can find us if we don’t them to.”

It was so tempting to be with people who actually wanted him for who he was. “But I can’t breathe down there,” Tim said. “Not for long anyway.” He’d need a tank of air and a mask, not to mention fins and a scuba suit. These weren’t exactly things an almost eleven year old boy could just buy.

Jason hugged him tighter. “We can breathe for you, silly.”

Dick nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “I learned from a siren and then I showed Jason.”

How that was supposed to work, Tim had no idea. “But, but how can I speak? I suck at your language.”

They spent a good amount of time in the water every summer, above and beneath it. Tim was a fantastic swimmer as a result, better than anyone ever expected of him, but he still had no more than a rudimentary grasp of the mer tongue. The hisses and clicks and whistles were hard for him to form underwater, especially since he couldn’t suck in water and blow it out through a set of gills like his friends.

The merboys closed their mouths and shared a confused look. “Uh, shoot,” Dick replied, bobbing higher in the water as a larger wave hit the rocks. “Okay, so we have to figure that one out still.”

“I also can’t live in the water all the time like you guys can,” Tim added. “My body just isn’t adapted for it.” He’d learned about evolution recently in school and he had spent more than one night wondering where exactly the merfolk branched off and ended up in the ocean rather than on land.

Jason made a face and curled closer to Tim, burying into the wet t-shirt clinging to his thin frame. “We know that,” he said, sounding somewhat muffled. “It would just be temporary until they stopped lookin’.”

Tim sighed and rested his free hand in Jason’s damp hair. He loved his friends, he really did. They were more constant in his life than his parents were, than anybody was. Except for Mrs. Mac, but they both knew that as soon as Tim got old enough and could take care of himself that she’d be gone.

He sighed heavily, debating about if he should speak up now about not coming back next year. Waiting wasn’t going to do any good; in fact, Tim already knew that Jason would throw a fit over it while Dick glommed onto him and refused to let go. Suddenly, he had an idea.

“Let’s make a promise,” Tim announced. “When I’m grown up and can do whatever I want, I’ll come back and live here all the time. Then we can always be together.”

It was like the sun shone even brighter as Dick’s grin lit up his face and Jason sat up, his gaze intent on Tim. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Tim nodded firmly. One day, his life would be his own and he could fulfill his own dreams rather than those of his parents. He’d be back, he knew it.

Jason tugged at the whistle hanging from Tim’s neck. “Swear on this,” he said.

“Swear on your blood,” Dick added. He let go of Tim’s hand to drag a sharp nail down the center of his palm.

It hurt, especially with the sting of salt water entering the wound, but Tim wrapped his bloodied hand of the shell. He could have sworn he felt it grow warmer. “I swear I will come back. No matter what happens.”

Dick cut his own hand and laid it over Tim’s, his blood darker and colder against his skin. “I swear that I will be here when you return.”

Jason took it one step further and bit his hand. Blood ran down the corner of his mouth as he wrapped his fingers around them both. “I swear that I’ll be here waiting for you, Tim. Not even death will stop me.”

There was no mistaking the surge of warmth that rushed through Tim’s veins as their vows were spoken and sealed. More than just a promise had been made here. Something important had just happened. Tim could feel the pounding of his heart growing louder in his ears the longer they held on. Distantly, he thought he heard an echo, of not one, but two hearts beating in time with his.

It was comforting, knowing his friends would always be with him.

An even larger wave took that moment to crash into all three of them, knocking them back into the tide pools. Tim spluttered as his mouth filled with water and he sat up, spitting it out. Dick and Jason were laughing at him.

“Silly human,” Dick teased, the incredible blue of his fins finally above the water where Tim could see it. “You’re supposed to swim in the water, not breathe it in.”

“I thought you said you’d breathe for me?” Tim spit again, trying to get the salty taste out of his mouth.

“In the deep water,” he replied with a grin, flashing sharp teeth as he rolled into a shallow pool. “What do you want to do now that you’re finally here?”

Jason flipped himself over, scales redder now that he was fully out of the water. “Did you bring cookies?”

Dick’s eyes widened. “Cookies! And what about those barrettes you told me about last year? I have shells I saved to braid into your hair.” He loved playing with Tim’s hair, as well as Jason’s when he could get away with it.

Tim stood and grinned down at his friends. The future could stay in the future, at least for now. Here in the present, things would go on the way they always had. Just him, Dick, and Jason. “I did, and shells are fine if you sucked the crabs out this time.”

#chibinightowl writes #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #Merfolk!AU #Fluff and friendship

[meliecho]

The 1K - an original sci-fi story

The 1K

by Meliecho

Story Summary:

1,000 children between the ages of 6-18 are abducted from Earth mere hours before the turn of the 21st century, and scattered across the galaxy in order to preserve their lives, their planet, and a precious hope the galaxy so severely needs. William Kade and Terra Kitridge are two of these children. This is their story, and the story of how they are used to further a last-ditch plan of desperation to end a 2,000 year war between the two major galactic powers.

Chapter 1

chapter summary: 

William Kade always dreamed of traveling to space. However, his and 999 other kids's lives are changed dramatically when an unknown alien race kidnaps them hours before the turn of the 21st century.

Chapter 1

December 18th, 1999. Ohio. Earth…

The chunky television in the living room played a news report through the old farmhouse.

“What’s out there? No one really knows. Man has speculated for centuries, mapped our star system, named the planets, and created gods in order to explain the vastness surrounding our blue world.”

Will watched from the round dinner table through the archway between the rooms. He shoveled a spoonful of Mac and Cheese into his mouth, barely registering the fact that it was food and not just a simple motion. The ten-year-old’s attention rested solely on the screen. His big brown eyes took in every frame.

“We look up at the stars, we listen to Carl Sagan’s speak of the cosmos, and study Stephen Hawking’s discoveries. We dream about what we might encounter among the billions of stars burning in the heavens, and we send satellites into orbit and beyond to be our eyes and ears into the unknown. The Hubble telescope has already shown us incredible images we would never have otherwise witnessed. Why? Because we are earthbound. But although we are young, we are curious and brave. In the words of Carl Sagan, ‘We wish to pursue the truth no matter where it leads. But to find the truth, we need imagination and skepticism both. We will not be afraid to speculate, but we will be careful to distinguish speculation from fact.’

“That is what drives the path-finding team of scientists and engineers at NASA. With the invention of the new Solar Nexus - a net of satellites in high orbit maintained by the International Space Station--, we can harness energy from our sun to power the world’s first inter-system ship. This ship will be capable of transporting not only goods and machinery to our closest neighbor, Mars, but transporting people, and someday, be the vessel that leads us into a new age of a lunar colony and life among the stars.

“The prototype --the Nova Star-- will be open to the public at Cape Canaveral for only one day. Scientists, astronomers, and space enthusiasts from all over the world will gather to get an up-close-and-personal look...at the future of mankind.

“Join us on New Years Eve for a live broadcast as we take you on a tour of Earth’s first inter-system vessel, and usher in the new millennium--”

The picture winked out.

“Dad,” Will whined, “I was watching that.”

“It’s daydreams and nonsense,” his father flicked the paper, folded it, and rested it by his own plate.

“It’s cool! We can have a space ship! We can explore the galaxy and be like Indiana Jones, but in space!”

“Indiana Jones fought Nazis. Not aliens,” his father countered.

“We don’t know that. Those face-melting angels were probably aliens. They went after the Nazis all like, ‘Rawr!’ And they were all like, ‘wuuaaah! Blaarrrgg!’” Will dragged his fingers down his face, making guttural sounds and pretending to melt into a puddle of goo.

“No face melting at the table,” his mother chided gently. “It’s hard to get out of the carpet.”

Will stopped the dramatics of a grim death-by-ancient-relic, and went back to eating. “Can we watch it on New Years Eve?”

“We always watch Dick Clark. It’s a tradition.”

“Yeah, but,” Will’s voice huffed with the blandness of repetition, “this is cooler than an old man! It’s space! Please, dad?”

“Charlie, let’s watch it,” his mother nudged her husband in the side. “Even if the space ship doesn’t work out, I have to admit it is pretty neat. Like when Kirk landed the Enterprise in the middle of San Francisco.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. He knew his wife was a sci-fi nerd, but he’d hoped she’d at least settle down some after Will was born. Thanks to her, he now knows most of the script to Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, and Star Wars IV, V, and VI.

“See? Mom gets it,” the young boy gave a cocky smile in victory. “Oh! I forgot. Last night, I picked up that weird signal again over the radio.”

“I listened to it once already. It’s white noise.” Charlie said.

“No it’s not! There’s a weird blippy pattern to it.” Will spoke around a mouthful of macaroni and cheese. “Noise is all ‘kkkrrrrr!’ This was all ‘kkkrr beep boop bleep!’ and something that sounds like a million people talking at once. I read that stars emit radio waves. Maybe this was--”

“Noise.”

“It wasn’t noise!”

“I was a member of the US Signal Corp for 20 years. When I gave you my old CB radio, I wanted you to learn how to navigate the airwaves. Not keep your head in the clouds.” He picked up the paper. “Besides. If it’s that important, the boys at NASA probably already picked it up. If it’s something of serious importance, I’d have gotten a call.”

“You were their best decoder, dad. Can you listen to it again? Please?”

“Leave it alone, Will.”

Will reached over for the remote, but his dad smacked his hand away with the paper. He grumbled, pouted, and said, “Whatever. Not like you’d believe me anyway.”

“Will,” his mother scolded.

Charlie leaned forward. “Repeat yourself, son. I don’t think I heard that,” but by his tone, the muffled slight clearly reached him.

Will glanced up to his dad, but kept his mouth shut.

Charlie reclined back in the chair again. “That’s what I thought. Go to your room.”

Will’s jaw dropped. “But--”

“Now!”

Silenced, Will slammed the spoon against the plate. The chair scratched against the old cube-print linoleum floor as his feet thundered up the stairs. The sound of his bedroom door slamming against its frame echoed downstairs.

Molly sighed. “Every time. Why can’t you two get along?”

“We have to fix the problems here on the ground before we go looking for problems out there,” Charlie’s face softened. “He needs to understand that. If we can’t fix ourselves, we can’t go anywhere.”

“It’s because NASA built the ship, isn’t it,” she uttered softly, knowing full well she was treading on emotional hot coals. “It’s been three years. When are you going to let this go?”

“Hughs is an idiot if he thinks this will work. He doesn’t see the big picture. He never did.” Charlie dropped the paper onto the round kitchen table -- signaling that the conversation was over --, picked up the remote, and moved to the living room recliner to watch a football game.

Molly picked up her son’s half-finished dinner. “Maybe letting him dream is a way to fix ourselves.” She covered his plate in plastic wrap and stuck it in the refrigerator. Her son could down twice this much food in one sitting. He would be hungry later.

* * * *

Will turned on his small t.v., picked up his SNES controller, and dropped cross-legged on the floor surrounded by dirty clothes strewn across the rug. The sounds of Super Mario World covered the silence. Snow drifted lazily to the ground outside the window, so he couldn’t go lay out on a blanket in the backyard like he usually would and get lost staring up at the stars. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to get pneumonia before Christmas.

He abandoned Blue Yoshi at the Star Road bonus level and shut off the game. Curious and a little bored, he turned on the old military radio and worked the dials carefully. He listened through monitor headphones too big for his head for a half hour before finally tossing them onto his desk in frustration. Nothing. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe it was just noise.

----

December 31st, 1999. New Years Eve…

Y2K theories had circulated for years. No one knew where it started, but the concept that the Earth’s fledgling internet, and every digital system on the planet would shut down frightened some enough into preparing for Dooms Day. Most people shrugged it off and went about their lives. Others feared the global shut down would set off every nuclear weapon on the planet, wiping out humanity. But everyone knew that instant ramen manufacturers had never seen a greater profit rise in the entirety of their companies’ existence.

Will didn’t buy into any of that, no matter how much the old people in their small town ranted about the end of days. He was sure the clocks would just turn over, and that would be it. He and his mother had gone to the local market to pick up a few groceries, but found that the apocalypse preppers had bought all the milk, most of the meat, a ton of non perishable goods, and first aid.

Frustrated, she purchased what she could, and made the trip in their SUV to the next town. Fortunately, they fared a little better. They enjoyed lunch at a local Denny’s, and made it home to have an uneventful night

That is, until 11pm rolled around.

Will was over the back of the couch in seconds, and had the t.v. tuned into the news. The reporter had just started going on about the details of the Nova Star. Will was entranced. He was so excited, he’d put on his long sleeved black henley with a small NASA logo to feel like he was part of it. “This is awesome! Hey, dad, aren’t those the guys you worked with?”

“Some of them. There’s some new faces.” Charlie put on his jacket and went to the backyard to chop wood. He’d tried to let his son enjoy this, but he didn’t want to have anything to do with the Nova Star project anymore, not even watching them parade their work to the media.

Molly sat next to her son with a bowl of popcorn. Will didn’t hesitate to take a massive handful and shove it into his mouth as he watched the tour of the Nova Star begin.

With everything that her only child held an interest in --video games, computers, that old radio-- they had their shared love of space, and Indiana Jones.

The media crew had lead their viewers through the cockpit and down to the living quarters of the ship, showing off all of the exciting wonders of the newest space-faring technology when all the lights in the house went out. It plunged the remote homestead into darkness.

The shock of sudden darkness sent fear spearing up Will’s spine. He knocked over the popcorn bowl and curled up around a pillow.

“Molly? Everything all right?” Charlie called in through the back door.

“We’re fine!” Molly called back.

“I’m checking the fuse box. Bring a light!”

“I’ll be right there!” She brushed her hand over Will’s hair. “It’s ok, Will, it’s just a power outage. Probably a tree branch took out a power line. It happens in winter.” She knew that even though he could pick up almost any insect, amphibian, and fearlessly explore the areas around their house, the only thing that would terrify him was complete and absolute darkness.

She felt her way to the kitchen to get a spare flashlight out of the junk drawer and handed it to him. He turned it on.

“Guard the house, Indiana. I’ll be right back.” Molly ruffled his dark hair and got a second flashlight and her coat from the entryway closet. She went out back to help her husband check the fuse box.

Molly held the flashlight as her husband flicked all the switches.

“Well, the fuses check out. There’s just no power,” Charlie threw each switch again for good measure.

“I was right. It was probably a downed tree.” She turned off the light and walked out to the backyard. She folded her arms tightly around her middle for warmth. Without the convection layer of clouds, it made being outside that much colder.

Charlie put his arm around her. “So much for New Years Eve; Dick Clark, spaceships, or otherwise.”

Her eyes rested on the arm of the Milky Way galaxy draping through the center of the clear night sky. “You know, without all the lights, it’s really beautiful.”

Charlie exhaled. “Yeah.”

“What arm are we in again?”

“The Orion-Cygnus arm. We’re not facing the core of the galaxy right now, but we will in summer.”

“Will comes out here, you know. He’ll sit out here and just stare.”

“Mmhmm. You used to do that as a kid, too. He gets his love of space from you.”

“No,” she shook her head. “He gets his love of nerd stuff from me. He gets his sense of adventure from you.”

He chuckled at that. “A hell of a combination.”

“Well, look who he’s combined from,” she smirked.

He chuckled at that.

“Maybe the new century is a good time to start a new resolution. Start off small. Who knows what he can do if we let him.”

“Molly…”

“He’s smart, Charlie. Work with him. Take him to NASA. If you want him to see the world that you think needs fixing, then show him. He might be the one to fix it, but he needs you. As smart as he is, he can’t do it alone.” She brushed her hand down his face, feeling the stubble of facial hair beneath her palm. “None of us can.”

Charlie grumbled. NASA’s headquarters wasn’t a place for kids, but she was right. It was part of the real world, and Will needed to see it. “Fine. I’ll take him after the holidays. But if anybody asks, this was your idea.”

She smiled and leaned in closely. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

He couldn’t help but kiss her and run his fingers through her long black hair. That gentle smile always warmed his heart.

The two stared up at the sky for a moment before she shivered and nudged her husband to head back.

A pulse of red light struck them in the back, and Charlie and Molly fell to the snow.

* * * *

Will scooted off the couch, keeping a vice grip on the flashlight. This was his home -- he’d lived here since birth -- but in the darkness, it felt like he’d entered another realm.

The house creaked around him. He spun, looking for whatever made that sound, then shook his head. “Get a grip, you dumb dork.”

A light static and crackle split the deathly silence. He aimed his flashlight at the stairs and swallowed. That sounded like his radio. He should check it out. Indiana Jones wouldn’t run away.

Will’s feet didn’t move for a good ten seconds.

Stealing his resolve, he went upstairs to his room.

The green light of the radio exuded a dull, eerie glow throughout the room. What scared him more were the sounds coming from the radio itself. Without power, the light shouldn’t be on, let alone the radio receiving a signal. His heart pounding with fear, but his curiosity overpowering it, he turned the knob to clarify the signal. The electronic beeps were still present, but were more like morse code than before. He could pick out different letters, enough to hear ‘246. Kade,’ but any speech in the background remained unfamiliar syllables and plosives.

Kade... That was his last name, but what did 246 mean? Someone out there was using morse code and talking about them for some reason. He had to tell his dad. This was definitely not noise.

Abandoning his fear, Will hurried downstairs, put on his winter coat and boots, and rushed outside into the cold snow. His warm breath clouded in the air. “Dad! You gotta hear this! Dad!” He ran around to the back of the house to the fuse box. “Dad? Mom?” They were gone. No one was there. Will shone his flashlight on the ground. The melted snow beneath the overhang protecting that part of the house showed their footprints walking away.

He peaked around the corner. “Mom?”

His parents lay on their backs with their eyes open.

“Mom! Dad!” Will hurried as fast as his small legs could carry him to the middle of the large yard. He dropped at his father’s side. “Dad! Are you ok?! Mom!”

Neither moved, but light puffs of warm air escaped their mouths. They were alive, just paralyzed. Charlie’s mouth moved slightly. “Run,” he whispered.

“Dad, no!” Will pulled on his father’s hand to try to pull him to his feet.

Charlie’s hand trembled as he fought the bind. Molly twitched beside him, fighting her own battle.

A glaring light lit up the wintery yard, blinding him. Will covered his eyes and stumbled back. He blinked upward as enormous lights shown down on their position.

“Run!” Charlie screamed.

Will instantly took off across the yard. A red pulse hit the snow at his right, forcing him to dodge in an arch. He evaded one more hit to his left, but the third landed its mark. Will’s entire body froze. He struggled to move even a finger, but it had him completely paralyzed.

A rush of warm air blasted the snow into swirls of white clouds around them. Will faced the lights from a craft larger than his house as a long ramp lowered and a single individual descended it quickly. It looked like a man in a dark armored uniform, but his face was covered by a protective mask with orange tinted eyewear.

Will’s heart threatened to explode from his chest as he breathed rapidly in fear.

The man passed a scanner over Will’s wide brown eyes, then spoke. The language mirrored that of the transmission Will had received off and on for the past few weeks.

A sharp pain pricked in the soft space behind his right ear. Will let out a small squeak of surprise. He felt a tingle brush through his mind like someone had taken a feather and gently swiped it all over his brain. The sensation died seconds later.

The man said something to him.

Will couldn’t think straight.

Irritated, the man rolled his eyes, grumbled, and then said it again, more impatiently.

Will’s eyes shifted to stare at his mother and father fighting the paralysis.

The man said something else in frustration then gave up and picked him up.

Will wanted to fight, but his body refused to obey him. He watched his parents helplessly as he was carried up the ramp. The panic built, and he did the only thing his body would allow: he let out a terrified, wordless scream. The ramp closed, shutting his parents and home out of sight.

The ship’s atmospheric thrusters sent more snow clouds billowing through the air as it rose above the trees, pivoted, and disappeared across the sky.

All of this took no more than two minutes.

Molly and Charlie were left alone in the winter stillness of their yard. They could move enough to grip each other’s hands as the bind gradually wore off, but remained in the cold staring at the empty sky.

The power returned ten minutes later.

They continued to lay there even as the news switched over to the countdown.

“...5...4...3...2...1…”

A hot tear streaked down Molly’s face to drip into the snow. “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

* * * *

tbc

* * * *

((I really wish I could translate what the alien said as he carried Will into the ship, but it would break the mood. The alien said, “246 Acquired. Let’s go. It’s colder than tits out here.”))

#The 1K #sci fi #space #action #adventure #y2k

[cryingbilldenbrough]

here’s another request for if you ever feel up to or inspired to write it: def more of the kasplon/bichie dynamic from the other kasplon thing i requested. like just the four of them in college together interacting as couples you know? a cute dynamic, imo.

okay so the other kasplon thing is this, in case anyone missed it! also this got LONG so i’m putting the rest under a readmore

ALRIGHT the concept is that before eddie and mike starting dating, eddie knew richie

they met on the first day of freshman moving in day when richie knocked on the door of the room bill and eddie shared

he was leaning against the door jam, big glasses and a hawaiian shirt hanging off one shoulder, dumb smile on his face

“you guys wanna buy some adderall?” he asks with an air of nonchalance that eddie KNOWS is bullshit, cause the kid’s eyes look a little wild and a little scared

and man, eddie is nervous about all of this too. bill seems like a nice guy so far but he also just spent like ten minutes unpacking framed pictures of his little brother and like, eddie didn’t bring a single picture from home and he feels like he and bill have nothing in common already

because eddie ran to college to get away from something and bill seems like he might be caught in the past

(he finds out later than the little brother is Georgie and Georgie is dead and he thinks he understands bill a little better than he thought)

anyway, richie asks if they want adderall and a comeback is falling from eddie’s lips almost immediately

“i think i’d rather you take it, spaz,” and fuck man!!! that was really mean!!! he doesn’t even know this kid and he’s already insulting him in like a really ableist way and eddie is scrambling to apologize

but richie is fucking dying

he’s doubled over, wild hair covering his face, and when he straightens he’s wiping tears from his cheeks

“i like you, kid,” he says, ruffling eddie’s hair

and then he invites himself in

and that’s pretty much how freshman year goes– richie invites himself into bill and eddie’s room and sits on their beanbag chair and steals their food and plays video games with bill

sometime during second semester eddie is pretty sure they start dating

no one says anything official, but bill starts spending time out of their room and comes back with wild hair and one time even a hickey

eddie assumes it’s richie that bill’s fucking around with only because richie has gotten even more Smug than usual lately

they don’t tell him they’re dating until the school year has almost wrapped up

cause it’s time to start figuring out where they’re going to live next year

eddie’s fully willing to stay in the dorms again, because living with bill turned out to be a lot of fun!! and eddie feels like he really blossomed into a young adult this year but he’s not sure he’s like, ready to get an apartment or something

anyway, eddie goes to bill first and is like, wanna live together next year?

and bill smiles apologetically, truly sad about it, and tells eddie he already has a roommate for next year– a kid in his composition class

and eddie’s like fuck man??? i don’t have any other options??? because yeah he made friends this year but god will any of them put up with him like bill does? with the pills hogging the medicine cabinet and the hour long calls to his mom back home that leave eddie near tears every time

what’s he gonna do without bill?

bill notices his discomfort and gets real quiet and later that night richie shows up, hair wild as ever

eddie’s curled up in bed watching netflix on his laptop and he feels richie jump into bed with him, sitting on his feet

eddie takes out his headphones and richie is grinning like a loon at him

“you’re a dummy, eddie spaghetti” he says

“don’t call me–”

“wanna live with me next year?”

“…..really?”

“i mean, as long as you’re cool with me and billy Boning Down at least three times a week” and he leans over with a hand held out for bill to high five

eddie looks at his roommate and bill is smiling with pink cheeks and god DAMN IT this is how they’re coming out to eddie?????

eddie fucking hates his friends

but he accepts richie’s offer and doesn’t even really mind when richie ruffles his hair and burrows down into his comforter to watch netflix with him

so come next fall, eddie returns to college after an agonizing summer spent missing his friends and his freedom

he and richie have a room closer to downtown this year, a little bigger space and it connects to the room next door with a bathroom AND a kitchen so they can actually cook instead of eating microwaved mac and cheese

(richie still eats a fucking lot of microwave mac and cheese)

and it’s not so bad because bill is over like all the time and he and richie are a couple but they’re not like, oppressively cute all the time

although, eddie does feel a pang of jealousy whenever they do something particular couple-like, such as coming home from dates and bringing each other coffee to class and going skateboarding all saturday afternoon

eddie wants that, you know?

anyway, it’s october when eddie meets bill’s mystery roommate

mike hanlon is probably the most attractive man eddie kaspbrak has ever met????

he’s tall and broad and has the nicest fucking smile and his eyes are kind and soft and his ass is GREAT

eddie knows he plays on the school football team and eddie really wants 2 see him in football pants oH GOD

anyway, bill introduces eddie as richie’s best friend which a) OW EDDIE’S POOR HEART and b) it’s the first time eddie realizes that’s true? cause holy shit yeah richie IS eddie’s best friend???

anyway, mike is polite and kind of shy and shakes eddie’s hand in a firm but soft grasp

he compliments eddie’s shoes and then invites him to play mariokart with him and bill

mike is pretty bad and eddie is pretty good and mike cheers eddie on to beat bill, knocking his shoulder against eddie and egging him on no louder than a whisper in his ear and eddie is GONE

it takes them a while to get together, mostly because they’re both kind of convinced the other is waaaay out of their league

and richie keeps inviting eddie to go out to dinner with him and bill and when eddie shows up, mike is there too which is fine bc he fits into the group really well but like?? is this a double date??? who does eddie sit next to in the booth?? who does he share popcorn with at the movies? does he call shotgun when mike’s driving them? THIS IS NEW TERRITORY FOR EDDIE AND HE DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO PROCEED

but eventually bill pulls eddie aside and says “d-dude, you g-gotta date mike. i had to l-listen to him t-t-talk about your fuh-fuckin’ eyes for like an hour last night. d-do it for me”

and eddie is like ME? HE LIKE ME??? 

so he gathers up all his courage (which is a fucking lot bc eddie kaspbrak is a BRAVE BOY) and goes to the football game with bill and richie one saturday

eddie doesn’t really care for football, knows like nothing about the rules, but he likes going to games

it’s cold and he bundles up in a hat and a hoodie under his winter coat and he drinks a fair amount of beer at the tailgate, beer that richie keeps shoving in his mitten-covered hands

they watch the game and eddie keeps his eyes out for number 43 and mike doesn’t play a whole lot but eddie spots him a few times!!! they cheer really loudly when he makes a run with the ball, moving the team forward like forty yards and richie’s voice is hoarse from yelling

they win and eddie shuffles out of the stadium with his friends

bill and richie want to go to a party across town and eddie hangs back

“i’m gonna wait for mike” he says and richie smirks

so eddie waits in the cold for a weird amount of time, watching drunk kids stumble out of the stadium and back into the real world

“eds?” he hears and he turns to see mike, sweaty and flushed and holding a duffle bag

he’s changed into a t-shirt and sweat pants and steam rises off his hot body into the cold air. his cleats are slung over his shoulder and eddie’s breath kind of catches in his throat over how beautiful mike looks when he’s flushed and happy in the winter air

“good game” eddie chokes out, slipping his phone in his pocket “you sure did… football… well…” and he flinches cause GOD WHO SAYS THAT

“thanks, man,” mike says and GOD ITS AWKWARD because there aren’t a LOT of people around, but there’s enough that eddie worries about the scene he might cause if he leans up to kiss mike right here

he’s drawn out of his panicking by mike dropping his duffle bag to his feet and taking a step forward

he wraps his hand around eddie’s neck and the other around eddie’s back and dips his head down and he’s kissing eddie, mouth soft and pressing into eddie’s with care and ease

(he smells like a fucking locker room and eddie isn’t even that grossed out by it)

eddie lets mike’s arm around his back support him and he relaxes into it, bending his knees and closing his eyes

kissing mike is everything he dreamed of and more, like coming home after a long day and curling up into bed

they hear a wolf whistle and break apart, blushing and giddy

it was one of mike’s teammates, a defense player with a kind smile 

“fuck off ben,” mike says and leans back down to kiss the side of eddie’s mouth one more time

football saturdays turn into eddie’s favorite day of the week, despite him continuing to know NOTHING about the game

because he goes to mike’s room early in the morning and crawls into a warm bed with him, ignoring bill’s soft groan from across the room bc its FIVE A.M. GUYS, and wakes mike up with like lil kisses n stuff

mike gets dressed and goes down to the stadium and bill and eddie get ready to go down and tailgate

they meet richie, who has a cooler full of cheap beer, and they set up camp outside the stadium

richie steals all of eddie’s hand warmers and bill gets convinced to do a keg stand by the trailer next to theirs and eddie tries and fails to win a game of bag toss

they go in the stadium and get as close to the front of the student section as they can and eddie scans the players on the sidelines to find mike

he spots number 43 and waves, sticking his hand up in the air and hoping mike spots his red mitten 

mike does and takes his helmet off so eddie can see his smile, waving back and making eddie feel like the only person in the stadium

mike scores a touchdown and they win and the students storm the field and eddie gets caught up in the rush, hand slipping out of richie’s

he’s disoriented and a moment away from just slipping out of the stadium and finding his friends later when a hand catches his arm

it’s mike, helmet tucked under his arm and his pads still on

he’s fucking soaked but he’s grinning so wide that eddie can’t help but smile back crazily

mike scoops him up into a victory kiss and eddie hears richie’s wheezy laughter and bill’s chuckle behind him

he lets go of mike so bill and richie can hug and pat him on the back

richie says something dumb about trying out for football next year if it means getting to make out on the field when you score

mike blushes and punches his shoulder and bill rolls his eyes 

and eddie is so happy to have his boys in his life

send me headcanons/requests/prompts!

#bichie #kasplon #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #richie tozier #mike hanlon #it headcanons #HELLO I LOVE MY BOYS N WOULD DIE FOR THEM #college au #my writing #this got SO LONG LMAOOOOO #i just love the idea of eddie having friends who love n support him #and also a football player boyfriend who isnt afraid 2 kiss eddie in front of his teammates and coach