aubergines | ( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

[ it's distressing. more than any other consequence: garret's madness, his time in the cell, his brother's distancing campaign, may's beat down, skye's hatred. it was distressing when fitz first came to see and kill him, and it's distressing now, watching his own fury choke him. ]

[ the urge to finish each of fitz's sentences for him is enormous, but he resists. ]

You don't want my help.

[ he corrects, not bothered by the truth in it. he knows he won't just be accepted back into the fold with open arms. if this is a redemption story, it's one he's telling himself, all personal. and it doesn't matter how much skye hates him for the things he's done and can never undo, he knows that with her as his guiding light he truly can be a better man. ]

[ he tosses the screwdriver down next to fitz on the bed. ]

I'll help your stubborn ass anyway.

[ and because he'd like to say it at least once when he's not motivated by captivation and impending death: ]

I am sorry, you know.

[ Peter digs through his pockets -- plasma bola, tripod, was that a piece of gum why do I even have gum, where the fuck is that bomb? -- and pulls out one of Rocket's homemade grenades. ]

Got it! Watch yourself. Fire in the hole--

[ He waits a quick second, then he chucks the bomb at the turret before ducking back into cover. The explosion takes out both the device and the engineer nearby, and sends shrapnel flying in all directions. ]

[ he jumps slightly when the screwdriver lands on the bed beside him, subtle enough to be discarded as distraction, a quick glance in its direction.

ward's right. fitz started this off on the wrong foot, knows he's likely to draw attention or worse if he tries to engage the locals without ward's influence again, whatever it might be. realizes, belatedly, that he's already accepted ward's help by accepting the tools. he drops the lock pick on the bed by the screwdriver, irritated, then looks back up to ward.

sorry. it doesn't matter that there's a glimpse of sincerity in it, that familiar pull that makes him want to believe it. it doesn't mean anything. nothing ward ever said or did meant anything, and that's not changing now. ]

No, I don't want your help. You're a— you think you can just say sorry, when you— [ he fails to settle on the right word, and the comm's abandoned on the bed as he stands, steps forward into ward's space. ] You can't. It doesn't mean anything, not after what you've done.

[ the anger wavers, gives way to something unsteady and scared. ] You did this. You chose him, and you don't— you don't get forgiveness.

[ well, he's going to feel awful any time he remembers the way daichi's face fall. definitely, not the reaction he was expecting. after all, who'd have thought the other boy was serious in the first place? ( okay, there's the nagging voice in the back of his head that says that he's known the other boy for way too long to have thought otherwise, but still, it's not the kind of request one expects to hear out of the blue. ) ]

No — wait, it's not that! [ and it isn't, he thinks. it's not that he doesn't understand how persistent sawamura-san got and he knows that even he'd say anything to get out of a desperate situation, but something about it — the whole idea makes his stomach flip in a strange way, though he's not quite sure why.

instead, he brushes the feeling aside and focuses on trying to make sure that his best friend doesn't think he's some kind of crazy, heartless jerk. ]

Daichi — [ he reaches out to rest his hand on the other boy's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. his voice takes on a teasing tone because it's always been what helps ease the tension, cutting away at awkward moments before they get out of control. ] You must be really nervous about all this, huh? If it really means that much and if it's only for now, I guess I don't see the harm.

[ see? he's not some kind of monster, after all! oh, but hang on real quick, while he punches his friend in the very arm he'd been holding just a second ago. ]

Not that I'm letting you get off this easy! Why didn't you tell me this at any point before we're supposed to end up at your parents' house?

[ She quickly slips into cover as the blast goes off, taking advantage of the ensuing confusion to cloak. When it's done and over with, it only takes a few seconds before there appears to be a assault rifle (stolen from one of the dead grunts) floating in mid air behind a disoriented centurion. ]

Think fast, buddy!

[ goes the disembodied voice of Kasumi, which doesn't remain disembodied for long after she de-cloaks and fires a burst of bullets into the centurion's back. The body falls to the floor like a rag doll, and Kasumi's right there, looking down over it. ]

Aww, not fast enough.

You're having too much fun. [ It's meant to sound discouraging, but it totally doesn't come off that way.

Peter takes a quick mental tally -- five guys down. Where's the sixth? He peeks out of cover, and when he does, his question's quickly answered when he hears something tink tink tink along the floor in front of him.

Flashbangs.

He doesn't have time to pull back, only has a second to think, Fuck! before the things go off. Pretty soon all he can see is white and there's a ringing in his ears and the only thing he's sure of is that he has one of those half-ways to his back.

Fuck, fuck, fuck-- ]

Fuck! [ Yeah, he's totally saying it aloud, now, because getting disoriented like this in the middle of a firefight is totally bush league. Kasumi is totally not going to be impressed with this screw up. ]

[ ward hears the unspoken words: you betrayed us. tries not to let it hurt. ]

Garrett raised me. Taught me. I would have followed him into fire.

[ not without questions, of course, garrett had taught him that, too. and not at the end, not after garrett died and lost his mind, became some other kind of monster. ]

[ he knows skye and the rest of them think that kind of blind obedience to evil is despicable, but the truth is he'd been feigning that exact sort of blind obedience to shield and they'd never reacted like this. it's hydra that changes things, and ward was never a true believer. he doesn't care for hydra anymore. ]

I won't apologize for that. But I'm sorry for what it cost you. You and Simmons... I wanted to keep you out of it.

[ he doesn't know how many times he has to say it, that he thought he was saving their lives. he's explained in multiple interviews that the cube was supposed to float once ejected over an ocean, that if he'd released them garrett would have simply had them both shot. but he watches fitz struggle with his words, his own mind, his one great weapon and tool, and he knows his intentions don't really mean much in the face of what fitz lost. ]

[ Kasumi barely had any time herself between noticing the flashbangs on the ground and ducking behind the nearest cover; her "Flashbang!" meant as a heads-up to Peter, comes too little too late, drowned out by the piercing sound of the detonation. Even with her head tucked low and her eyes closed, the sheer number of the things is enough to disorient her even a little bit.

Peter's yelling is how she snaps out of it, and while it may be true that it's not his most impressive moment, she's scrambling out of her cover all the same to make her way over to him. Apparently, someone's deployed some smoke screens to go with the flashbangs, but she follows the sound of his voice quickly enough to be able to swoop down, her entire body almost touching the ground, and sweep a phantom across the feet with a kick just in time to interrupt the copycat's attempt at attacking Peter. ]

Yeah, well if you wanted to keep us out of it, maybe you shouldn't have— [ this time, fitz cuts himself off intentionally. he isn't supposed to be upset because ward acted like his friend, acted like something else entirely. he's meant to be upset on behalf of everyone, the team, simmons and skye and may.

he doesn't step back, but he does drop his gaze, anger briefly derailed by embarrassment. his focus catches on the nightstand when he does, the details of the room; it doesn't help. it's just a mockery of his own selfish, personal hangups, and he tries to push it all back, bottle up the anger and scrape together some self-control. ]

It doesn't matter. The team won't trust you.

[ he tries to make it sound detached and impersonal, but now that the anger's died down he just sounds upset. he turns away without meeting ward's eyes again, picks up the comm with every intention of acting like the conversation's over — then stops, attention shifting to his hand as the glowing mark flickers red. ]

[Clint is wondering something similar, to be honest--about boundaries, and lines that might end up getting blurred. Dancing is innocent enough, though, right? It's just hands on waists and shoulders or wherever. Nowhere inappropriate, he will try so hard not to cross any lines here, okay.]

What kind of stuff? Forging fancy party invitations, or dancing?

[His own champagne is also almost entirely untouched when he sets it down beside her and then offers a hand to lead her onto the dance floor.]

'Cause the last time we crashed a party like this, there was no dancing.

[ By the time his vision's cleared enough to allow him to see blurry, indistinct blobs and the ringing his dissipated to a hum, he sees a flurry of movement and hears the muffled bam of (what he thinks is) a body hitting the floor. He blinks, trying to clear out the white spots in his eyes, and he thinks he recognizes Kasumi's form nearby (because, in his mind, she has a very distinct figure), and on instinct he shoots at the other figure on the ground.

That was a dumb move, though, because now there's more light in his already fucked up vision, and he winces as the electricity dances across the person's body. ]

Really hope that wasn't you just now, Goto. [ He tries his best to keep himself from shouting, given that his hearing is only slightly below fucked; as it is, his voice is just a little louder than normal. ]

[ She sees him trying to aim his blaster and there's a moment when, despite her distinctive figure and all, it isn't entirely clear who he's aiming for-- ]

--Quill!

[ --she says, with a lot of emphasis because holy shit she finds herself pushing off the ground with her arms and having to contort her body oddly to make sure the blast hits the phantom and only the phantom. Thankfully, it works, and Kasumi's just looking at Peter in his post-flashbang state as the phantom's screams die out (the rest of her dies out too, of course.

The look on her face just says, That was way too close for comfort and I appreciate the assist but I could have handled her myself. ]

[ Peter pulls a face behind his mask, even if she can't see it, and even if he can't quite make out her expression, what with the hood obscuring her face and all, and his vision still being at about 60%. Still, he's heard that tone of voice before -- hears it on an almost daily basis from various members of his crew -- and recognizes it for what it is. ]

Thanks, and you're welcome.

[ He shuts his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall with a quiet clink as the metal of his mask meets the surface. Any second now that ringing in his ears will go away. Yep. Any time now. ]

Fuckin' hate flashbangs.

[ the team. ward rolls his eyes: when he's playing at being by the book everyone's an individual with their own ideas but now that he's the bad guy they're all a unified team. go figure. still, that's not a statement he can argue with. ]

[ he also knows that it's personal for each of them. simmons' little crush when he rescued her; his affair with may; his devotion to skye; each of them feels personally betrayed, regardless of what he did and what amends he makes. and fitz is no different. but ward's never cared about people 'til he met the team, and he's going to keep caring about them whether they want him to or not. ]

[ and then the light goes on. ]

[ ward's eyebrows raise and he looks down at his own hand: nothing. ]

That's not good.

[ red is a bad color, everyone knows that. he's got fitz' hand in his own in moments, heedless if his anger or his personal space. ]

Hope they're not watching this room. Because you're making a pretty bad show of being my partner. Since I think they think that means we're...

[ a gesture around at the room. ]

Yup, though I will say that they're amazing if you're not on the receiving end.

[ She moves to get herself back on her feet, breathing softly but heavily and still half-keeping an eye out for any more cloaked surprises. ]

Besides the side effects of a flashbang--you're not hurt, are you?

[ fitz doesn't get a chance to step back before ward's in his space, and there's just a short, ineffective attempt to yank his hand out of ward's grip before he processes the words and goes still.

he follows the gesture with a quick look around the room, as if he's only just now seeing it — not true, and of course he'd already gotten the implications when they'd first stepped off the lift, but— ]

What? [ it's a bad habit, that startled filler. he hates it, but unlike apparently every other word, it's quick and instinctive. he looks back with every intention of expressing his discontent with that particular ruse, only to become distracted by his hand again. the color's turning, red giving way to a more neutral, if not completely comforting, orange. there's a beat of heavy silence while he thinks. when he speaks, his voice is guarded and wary. ]

Let me go.

[ he doesn't even look at ward as he says it, too busy watching to see how the mark reacts. ]

[ He holds up a hand to give her a thumbs up. ]

Aside from my pride? Just peachy. [ He opens his eyes, and his vision has more or less cleared up at this point. He gets himself to his feet, brushing himself off. ]

What about you? You good?

[ ward understands immediately, and when he lets fitz go it's part of an experiment rather than respect for his boundaries. and sure enough the light goes back to red again. ]

Partners.

[ he takes fitz's hand again, firmly, like there's to be no argument about the action. ]

To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, on Earth or on alien spaceships.

[ not if fitz has any opinion on the matter. he tries to yank his hand away, but the gesture's more annoyed than violent, easily countered by ward's firm grip. ]

That isn't funny. [ it's a terrible joke, even without the terrible context behind all of this. he says it almost petulantly, which might technically be a step up from seething anger. he's still distracted by the light, anyway, watching as it fades back to orange. ]

They're not watching. [ the light hadn't reacted when he was breaking the comm or when ward was snooping around in the bathroom. though that doesn't necessarily mean anything, and he isn't sure which of the two possibilities is actually the worse option. ] It's contact-based.

[ the neutral tone's verging on cold. same approach as ward, though for entirely different reasons — it's easier to deal with this when he removes himself from it, treats it like a project instead of something personal, just shy of intimate. the comm's dropped yet again, then he experimentally places his free hand on ward's arm, shoving his sleeve back in the process.

the light shifts yellow in response. his hand moves to his forehead, eyes shut as he lets out a frustrated noise. it's at least partly contact-based, and no matter what it's a problem. ] This isn't going to work.

[ She looks down at herself as though she has to check. ]

Maybe just a scratch somewhere? Could have been worse. [ She shrugs. ] As in, could have gotten completely fried by your blasters worse.

[ Seriously why would you try to shoot someone right after getting flashbang'd ]

[ red when they're not touching. orange for holding hands. yellow for closer contact. even a Neanderthal like ward can figure that much out. though ward is starting to wonder just what kind of things might make fitz' hand light up in the cooler end of the spectrum — and what the consequences are if he stays in the red. ]

These guys are definitely over-invested.

[ in where fitz' hands are going and by association the state of their marriage. is it an alien thing or a ward thing? he doesn't know and it's obviously making fitz uncomfortable. he lets him pull away and watches the light fade back to red. ]

Wanna take a bet what's going to happen if you leave it that color?

[ he offers, barely serious, though it's hard to tell with ward now: he never used to crack a lot of jokes and these days his poker face is really good. ]

Access. It'll be access, which... [ is the safest answer. probably a correct one, and hopefully the only one. fitz doesn't sound particularly sure of that, though, and there's a hesitant glance up towards ward before his eyes drop back to the mark and he searches for words. ]

It's the— um. The things— [ he's gotten past this. learned to slow down, think things through regardless of how long it takes rather than stumbling through it out loud. the backslide's frustrating, but he tries to ignore it, keep his tone neutral. ] Nanites. Or something like nanites.

[ uncertainty aside, he seems content to see just what happens if it stays red. he doesn't move to resume contact. he wants to cross his arms, shrink in on himself; instead he settles his hands on his hips, trying to act casual and in charge, but the gesture's a forced echo of his old habits. ]

This is your fault.

[ thanks again for bailing him out. or not. ]

[ Because he is a goddamn idiot. ]

Please, Goto. A month ago Groot nearly crushed Rocket when he was throwing dudes around. Three days ago Rocket shot at a guy between Drax's legs. Last week Drax tossed Gamora an active grenade. Two weeks ago, Gamora threw a knife right past my ear to hit a guy sneaking up on me. [ He uses his thumb to indicate the knife's trajectory, adding in a quiet, fffftang for effect. ]

Nearly killing each other is kind of what we do. The nearly is super important, there.

[ He moves over, claps a hand on her shoulder. ]

Welcome to the team.

[ She looks at his hand on her shoulder and then at him as her skeptical look quickly brightens into one of amusement. She certainly wasn't expecting a 'welcome to the team,' like, ever, but hey, she'll take it even if it's meant as a joke. ]

What? Me? This is such an honor, Star-Lord, I. I don't know what to say.

--Speaking of the team, though, we should probably let them know what's going on so we can get the hell out of here.

I'm looking forward to that day. [ is she talking over him a little bit? maybe she is, voice raising just slightly even though she can't help but hear his cupcake.

he's worse than bucky when it comes to giving pet names to dames, she thinks, and manages to keep most of the bitterness and loss that'd usually be accompanying the thought at bay.

she doesn't try to untangle her fingers from his, though, and so they hold hands all the way to the alien ship and all the way to the ramp, and they're still holding hands when he introduces them to the guards and steph promptly gives in to her first instinct because she can't be playing in love with him if she's stiff and unresponsive: so she stomps on his foot, visibly and not too hard. ]

Steph Rogers and Peter Quill, actually. [ a beat. ] But we would like to see your queen.

( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

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this is so bad for my mdash fixation

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i love mdashes this is great

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lovingly smothers you in them

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omfg i never hit post comment

i was beginning to think you forgot about lil' ol' me ;o;

neverrrr. i just forgot how to push buttons ;3;

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never apologise for that asldfkj