Marshal Knox
The last day in Wakanda was the happiest of Marshal’s life thus far. He was free. Cait wanted to be with him. He was surrounded by the people he loved.
Enjoy this while it lasts. As long as it lasts.
And he did. So much.
As they were leaving the city, Jameson announced, “Okay, everyone! Time for a family picture.”
“I can take it for you,” Aidan offered, reaching out for Jameson’s phone.
Jameson bumped his shoulder playfully instead. “Stop it, you goof. You need to be in it. We’ll do a selfie. Alright, all of you! Get over here…”
Marshal didn’t see it at the time, but when Jameson texted them all the pictures later, Marshal noticed that Aidan had the biggest smile in those photos that he’d ever seen on the younger man’s face.
***
Later, on the Quinjet, Marshal had gotten up to get drinks for himself and Cait - just soda for Marshal, who had stuck with his resolution not to drink alcohol anymore - and he stumbled upon Jameson, standing alone, facing the wall, leaning heavily on it, resting his full weight against one arm while his other hand grasped at his chest.
“Jameson? Are you...?”
Marshal was fully expecting his brother was about to collapse from a heart attack, but Jameson nodded.
“I’m alright. Just a panic attack. Just gotta push through it.”
Marshal nodded sympathetically. That was certainly something he could relate to. He stood by Jameson, rubbing his brother’s back until his tension eased.
“Thanks,” Jameson finally said. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. But… is everything… is everything good?”
“Yes. Now it is. I just… Marshal, the whole time we were there, I was so tense. I was so scared I was going to lose you. The things they were doing… they had to. To save you. But I was so worried, and I couldn’t let it out. I didn’t want to make things harder. I just kept worrying I’d be coming home without you, but now it’s all over and I just… I guess it all came out now,” he finished sheepishly.
Marshal put his arm around his brother and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m here,” he said simply.
“Yeah. You are.” Jameson smiled, and squeezed back.
Marshal’s emotions were in a jumble. He didn’t want Jameson to be scared, or sad. He didn’t want him to have a panic attack. Obviously. But the reason…
…The reason was loving him. Marshal had never been that important to anyone before. No one had ever been afraid of losing him.
They were a family. They could get through things together. For the first time in his life, he was more than just collateral damage. More than just an acceptable loss. Marshal felt so… whole.
***
Then they were home.
And Marshal abruptly realized the magnitude of what was happening with Cait. She was a princess. And Marshal was - as Ginny had been so fond of pointing out - just HYDRA trash. Cait said she loved him, and he believed her. He loved her back, with all his heart. But was there a way forward for them, now that they were back in reality?
“So uh… what happens now?” Marshal asked.
He had never exactly been the kind of guy you brought home to the family. That had never mattered before. But now, suddenly, maybe it did. Was it over for them if - when - the queenly sister disapproved?
The Golden City
Re: The Golden City
Rhiannon McIvor
A great relief came over her when he said he felt the same way. She had thought she had read him correctly - his interest, that is. Those lingering glances they shared, even before he knew who she was. The light flirting at the museum had cemented her resolve.
"You're right - the first move is never easy." Rhiannon dismissed her light-headedness as nerves, not realizing that she was floating off the ground a little higher than usual. Her long skirts hid her feet from view, mostly, but as she was holding on to Imiel, it was more apparent in how her shoulder was a little closer to his in height.
What he had to say next, while confirming her suspicions, produced a deep sadness in her. Always masked? Always afraid? It sounded like torture. Cruel torture. It did make her wonder just how different from human he looked - perhaps those strange images she'd glimpsed were not so strange after all?
"I understand your trepidation to some degree. I know what it is to have to hide, but I haven't had to create a full bodied mask for myself to wear. I...I would love to meet you as you are. I don't want you to have to hide around me. Besides, I believe the children have already seen this form of yours and they are not afraid of you. I think...I think we just might be some of those 'humans' who don't mind people who don't look like them."
~~~
The adoption papers were signed by Rhiannon with an elegant hand despite the cheap ballpoint she was offered. It was fortunate that the van they'd rented was big enough for one extra passenger. Sully was buckled in alongside the kids in the back row. He turned every so often to offer one or the other a sloppy 'kiss'. Charis had an arm around him and leaned contentedly into his shoulder.
"I think he needs a new name." she announced, a minute into the drive.
"Oh?" Rhiannon turned in the front seat to glance behind her.
"Sully just makes me think of ... sullen. And he's not now because he has a new family. He needs a new name. Like Captain or Crusher or..."
"Sir Wags-a-lot?"
"No! Sheesh Mom, like a serious name but just not like sad!"
Rhiannon raised her eyebrows at Imiel and sighed. Her daughter could be...just like her, at times.
"How about Bastion?" offered Ewan.
The dog stopped panting and stared straight at him.
"Bastion." Charis repeated, which caused the dog to immediately turn and stare at her.
"I think you've hit on it." there was a smile in Rhiannon's voice. "Could we call him Bas for short?"
Bastion gave a small woof and wagged his tail as best he could while strapped into a seat belt. He gave Charis and Ewan each another lick.
A great relief came over her when he said he felt the same way. She had thought she had read him correctly - his interest, that is. Those lingering glances they shared, even before he knew who she was. The light flirting at the museum had cemented her resolve.
"You're right - the first move is never easy." Rhiannon dismissed her light-headedness as nerves, not realizing that she was floating off the ground a little higher than usual. Her long skirts hid her feet from view, mostly, but as she was holding on to Imiel, it was more apparent in how her shoulder was a little closer to his in height.
What he had to say next, while confirming her suspicions, produced a deep sadness in her. Always masked? Always afraid? It sounded like torture. Cruel torture. It did make her wonder just how different from human he looked - perhaps those strange images she'd glimpsed were not so strange after all?
"I understand your trepidation to some degree. I know what it is to have to hide, but I haven't had to create a full bodied mask for myself to wear. I...I would love to meet you as you are. I don't want you to have to hide around me. Besides, I believe the children have already seen this form of yours and they are not afraid of you. I think...I think we just might be some of those 'humans' who don't mind people who don't look like them."
~~~
The adoption papers were signed by Rhiannon with an elegant hand despite the cheap ballpoint she was offered. It was fortunate that the van they'd rented was big enough for one extra passenger. Sully was buckled in alongside the kids in the back row. He turned every so often to offer one or the other a sloppy 'kiss'. Charis had an arm around him and leaned contentedly into his shoulder.
"I think he needs a new name." she announced, a minute into the drive.
"Oh?" Rhiannon turned in the front seat to glance behind her.
"Sully just makes me think of ... sullen. And he's not now because he has a new family. He needs a new name. Like Captain or Crusher or..."
"Sir Wags-a-lot?"
"No! Sheesh Mom, like a serious name but just not like sad!"
Rhiannon raised her eyebrows at Imiel and sighed. Her daughter could be...just like her, at times.
"How about Bastion?" offered Ewan.
The dog stopped panting and stared straight at him.
"Bastion." Charis repeated, which caused the dog to immediately turn and stare at her.
"I think you've hit on it." there was a smile in Rhiannon's voice. "Could we call him Bas for short?"
Bastion gave a small woof and wagged his tail as best he could while strapped into a seat belt. He gave Charis and Ewan each another lick.
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 914
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: The Golden City
Imiel
Imiel couldn't help a grin when he realized Rhiannon was floating a little. He felt like it was floating a little, too. With him, it just wasn't quite as literal.
"Thank you," he replied sincerely when she agreed to see his face. "That's very kind. Your children were very nice about it too."
The idea of not having to hide was appealing. But complicated. Rhiannon was surely brave enough - understanding enough - not to be afraid of him. Was not being feared enough for him? He didn't want her to look at him differently. A foolish thought, but there it was. In his human form, she looked at him like she was attracted to him. Once she saw his face, would he be some... ugly thing she had to generously tolerate? Maybe it was better to hide. That way at least she would keep looking at him the same way she did now. Was a partner who was attracted to you a reasonable or unreasonable thing to want?
Stupid. He was being so stupid. This feeling he hadn't felt for anyone in a long time was clouding his judgment.
The trip home with the new dog was a welcome distraction from his fretting.
"He seems to fit right in," Imiel said with a smile. (Now that they'd gotten this far with no small children being eaten, he was starting to relax about the whole thing.) "I think you found his true name."
And it seemed Bastion had found his true home.
Imiel couldn't help a grin when he realized Rhiannon was floating a little. He felt like it was floating a little, too. With him, it just wasn't quite as literal.
"Thank you," he replied sincerely when she agreed to see his face. "That's very kind. Your children were very nice about it too."
The idea of not having to hide was appealing. But complicated. Rhiannon was surely brave enough - understanding enough - not to be afraid of him. Was not being feared enough for him? He didn't want her to look at him differently. A foolish thought, but there it was. In his human form, she looked at him like she was attracted to him. Once she saw his face, would he be some... ugly thing she had to generously tolerate? Maybe it was better to hide. That way at least she would keep looking at him the same way she did now. Was a partner who was attracted to you a reasonable or unreasonable thing to want?
Stupid. He was being so stupid. This feeling he hadn't felt for anyone in a long time was clouding his judgment.
The trip home with the new dog was a welcome distraction from his fretting.
"He seems to fit right in," Imiel said with a smile. (Now that they'd gotten this far with no small children being eaten, he was starting to relax about the whole thing.) "I think you found his true name."
And it seemed Bastion had found his true home.
Re: The Golden City
Cait McIvor
She'd shoved her face into the bottom corner of the photo under Marshal's chin, just inside the frame. Her smile, crooked as always, almost seemed to line up with the diagonal of the shot on purpose. The fingers of her left hand were entwined with Marshal's.
~~~
On the plane ride home, distracted as she was, Cait still had plenty of time to think. For better or for worse. What did her dating Marshal mean for her role as protector? Did the change her her eligibility really have to impact that at all?
In a way, her staying with Rhiannon to help look after the children had made it easier for le Fay to gather them up to this dimension. Being apart had been safer, especially when she was generally the harder one of the two to find. She'd been quite happy in the Peruvian jungle before she'd received that satellite call from Rhys.
Of course, being away from them now that le Fay had them here presented new challenges. Just being absent wouldn't cut it - nor would her family necessarily be safer for it. Not with SHIELD around, anyway. In a way, she felt as though the government agency had painted an even larger target on their backs.
Cait supposed that in the end, it didn't really matter where in the world she lived with regards to where her sister and her children lived - they were in danger regardless. That thought was more of a comfort than she thought it'd be. Certainly Rhys would argue with that. But, some part of Cait was relieved that she couldn't shoulder the burden of keeping them all completely safe. It was impossible. And therein lay the freedom of it.
~~~
Despite the fact that she'd been mulling over how to let her sister know to expect to see her less than she had become accustomed to, Marshal's question still caught her by surprise.
"I suppose we should get something to eat, and I should text Rhys to see if they got that dog like I told her to, and...oh. Oh, you mean...like are we still dating now that we're home?"
Cait had clued in partway through her very short-term plans that Marshal was in fact worried about something bigger than stocking up with fresh bagels. He looked...concerned? She supposed he had a right to be - he knew she had a job and an uptight sister - but she wasn't too sure what exactly he was most concerned about. She decided to just lay out a plan and see if he thought it was agreeable.
"Marshal, when I said I loved you, I meant it. It wasn't a trick of the moon or blood loss or anything like that." She reached for his hands so that she could face him. So he could see how serious she was.
"However, I do want to tell my sister the news on my own in case...well, okay, I admit I don't really know how she's going to take it. I think she was expecting me to be their personal bodyguard or something, but that's something I've been telling her I'm not doing for years now. I ... Marshal, I know she doesn't have a problem with you. But she does have a problem with me. We have never seen eye to eye - and frankly, we don't know each other well enough to even make a try for that level of connection."
Cait looked away for a moment, thoughtful. "I actually envy you and Jameson. You went from not knowing you were brothers to being each other's best friends and...wow, I wish..."
She leaned forward and hugged him, head against his chest, taking a deep breath. In and out. In and out. In and out.
"I'm overthinking it. I really don't know my sister to know how she will respond one way or another, so I guess I shouldn't worry about it. I'll text her to see where they're at...and take it from there. Is that okay with you?"
She'd shoved her face into the bottom corner of the photo under Marshal's chin, just inside the frame. Her smile, crooked as always, almost seemed to line up with the diagonal of the shot on purpose. The fingers of her left hand were entwined with Marshal's.
~~~
On the plane ride home, distracted as she was, Cait still had plenty of time to think. For better or for worse. What did her dating Marshal mean for her role as protector? Did the change her her eligibility really have to impact that at all?
In a way, her staying with Rhiannon to help look after the children had made it easier for le Fay to gather them up to this dimension. Being apart had been safer, especially when she was generally the harder one of the two to find. She'd been quite happy in the Peruvian jungle before she'd received that satellite call from Rhys.
Of course, being away from them now that le Fay had them here presented new challenges. Just being absent wouldn't cut it - nor would her family necessarily be safer for it. Not with SHIELD around, anyway. In a way, she felt as though the government agency had painted an even larger target on their backs.
Cait supposed that in the end, it didn't really matter where in the world she lived with regards to where her sister and her children lived - they were in danger regardless. That thought was more of a comfort than she thought it'd be. Certainly Rhys would argue with that. But, some part of Cait was relieved that she couldn't shoulder the burden of keeping them all completely safe. It was impossible. And therein lay the freedom of it.
~~~
Despite the fact that she'd been mulling over how to let her sister know to expect to see her less than she had become accustomed to, Marshal's question still caught her by surprise.
"I suppose we should get something to eat, and I should text Rhys to see if they got that dog like I told her to, and...oh. Oh, you mean...like are we still dating now that we're home?"
Cait had clued in partway through her very short-term plans that Marshal was in fact worried about something bigger than stocking up with fresh bagels. He looked...concerned? She supposed he had a right to be - he knew she had a job and an uptight sister - but she wasn't too sure what exactly he was most concerned about. She decided to just lay out a plan and see if he thought it was agreeable.
"Marshal, when I said I loved you, I meant it. It wasn't a trick of the moon or blood loss or anything like that." She reached for his hands so that she could face him. So he could see how serious she was.
"However, I do want to tell my sister the news on my own in case...well, okay, I admit I don't really know how she's going to take it. I think she was expecting me to be their personal bodyguard or something, but that's something I've been telling her I'm not doing for years now. I ... Marshal, I know she doesn't have a problem with you. But she does have a problem with me. We have never seen eye to eye - and frankly, we don't know each other well enough to even make a try for that level of connection."
Cait looked away for a moment, thoughtful. "I actually envy you and Jameson. You went from not knowing you were brothers to being each other's best friends and...wow, I wish..."
She leaned forward and hugged him, head against his chest, taking a deep breath. In and out. In and out. In and out.
"I'm overthinking it. I really don't know my sister to know how she will respond one way or another, so I guess I shouldn't worry about it. I'll text her to see where they're at...and take it from there. Is that okay with you?"
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Monkey Kitty
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Re: The Golden City
Marshal Knox
"Yeah. It's okay." Marshal held Cait, gently rubbing her back, letting her lean on him. Letting her just breathe, his own breath coming in time with hers.
He was lucky. He knew that. Marshal was lucky to have Jameson - and he understood why it was different. They had found each other so late, when they both needed the same thing, and without the baggage of a life together so far. No grievances, petty or large. Just a clean slate as brothers, to be brothers however they wanted to be. However they needed to be. Cait and her sister would never have that clean slate. When it came to history, they had a hell of a lot more than most.
"I love you too, Cait. And whatever you need - it's okay with me. I'll wait. I'll be here. Take the time to do what you need to do. If you want to come over later, you can. Or if you want to spend time with your family... yeah, whatever you need."
He realized he probably shouldn't kiss her - if her sister happened to be looking out the window, that would pretty solidly dynamite the taking time to navigate the conversation plan - but he continued the hug until she was the one to let go.
"We're going to be okay. However this goes." He gave her a crooked grin, and said softly, "And who knows - kiss this frog enough times, and maybe I will turn into a prince." He punctuated the joke with a wink, then made himself scarce so she could deal with her family as she saw fit.
"Yeah. It's okay." Marshal held Cait, gently rubbing her back, letting her lean on him. Letting her just breathe, his own breath coming in time with hers.
He was lucky. He knew that. Marshal was lucky to have Jameson - and he understood why it was different. They had found each other so late, when they both needed the same thing, and without the baggage of a life together so far. No grievances, petty or large. Just a clean slate as brothers, to be brothers however they wanted to be. However they needed to be. Cait and her sister would never have that clean slate. When it came to history, they had a hell of a lot more than most.
"I love you too, Cait. And whatever you need - it's okay with me. I'll wait. I'll be here. Take the time to do what you need to do. If you want to come over later, you can. Or if you want to spend time with your family... yeah, whatever you need."
He realized he probably shouldn't kiss her - if her sister happened to be looking out the window, that would pretty solidly dynamite the taking time to navigate the conversation plan - but he continued the hug until she was the one to let go.
"We're going to be okay. However this goes." He gave her a crooked grin, and said softly, "And who knows - kiss this frog enough times, and maybe I will turn into a prince." He punctuated the joke with a wink, then made himself scarce so she could deal with her family as she saw fit.
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 914
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: The Golden City
Jameson Bryant, Aidan Millican, and Marshal Knox
As Aidan walked into the house, his small duffel bag of possessions slung over his shoulder, he asked Jameson, "You remember that you said I could stay here, right?"
Jameson gave him a puzzled look. "Yes, of course I remember."
"You... remember that you said 'indefinitely,' right?"
"Yes, Aidan. I remember. Were you worried we would forget?"
Aidan stared at the floor. "Maybe. Yes."
"Oh. Well, we didn't. We won't. This is your home now. For as long as you want it to be. You don't have to keep asking permission to be here."
"Okay. Thanks." Aidan still wasn't quite looking up. "It's just... you're all a family. And I'm just some guy who showed up one day."
"That's not how we think of you," Jameson assured him. "I mean yes, your arrival was a surprise. When we went to investigate that sound that night, we didn't expect it to turn into such a..."
"Complication?"
"No. Such a blessing."
"A blessing? Me?"
"Yeah. We like you, Aidan. We like having you here. We want you to stick around."
"It's just..." Aidan's eyes were still on the floor. "It's hard. Because what you have-- it's what I always wanted. My parents died when I was little, and then I was a foster kid. I always imagined I had some secret family somewhere. A brother, maybe. Who would come get me. And then I got older, and I realized it's just a fantasy. Of course it is. But then I see you and Marshal. So it's something that's real? But just... not for me."
"Oh." Jameson took a deep breath. "I didn't realize..."
"Yeah. It's okay. I'm fine. It's just hard to wrap my head around, you know?" This was getting too awkward, Aidan decided. He should disappear to his room about now...
"Wait, Aidan. It can be real for you too."
"I don't think this kind of thing happens a lot, Jameson. Not everyone is that lucky."
"No, I don't mean that. I mean-- hey, Marshal? Do you think...?" He met Marshal's eyes. Marshal nodded. Jameson went on, "We would be open to having another brother."
“But… I’m not your blood.”
Marshal shrugged. “Blood is really the least important part of this. If it matters to you, though - you actually do share blood with us. You got transfusions from both of us the night we found you. You have blood from both of us running through your veins. And if you want... you could be family too."
"You want me? Really?"
Jameson smiled. "Yeah. We sure do."
Aidan - usually notoriously touch averse - pulled them both into a hug.
***
Marshal was feeling good. The thing with Aidan had gone well. Things with Cait were going well, too. She still loved him. She wanted to be with him. It was okay for her to take time to figure out exactly what being together would entail for her. He had no problem waiting.
In the meantime, he didn't want to pester her, so he held off on making contact with her. (With the exception of texting her one particularly adorable picture of Fievel holding a piece of dried corn in both of his front paws like he was eating a tiny hamburger. It was unfathomable to Marshal that anyone would decline a particularly adorable picture of Fievel at any time.) He spent his time unpacking, making a grocery list, cleaning Fievel's habitat and interacting with him, and planning a movie night that would hopefully be more peaceful than the last attempt.
As Aidan walked into the house, his small duffel bag of possessions slung over his shoulder, he asked Jameson, "You remember that you said I could stay here, right?"
Jameson gave him a puzzled look. "Yes, of course I remember."
"You... remember that you said 'indefinitely,' right?"
"Yes, Aidan. I remember. Were you worried we would forget?"
Aidan stared at the floor. "Maybe. Yes."
"Oh. Well, we didn't. We won't. This is your home now. For as long as you want it to be. You don't have to keep asking permission to be here."
"Okay. Thanks." Aidan still wasn't quite looking up. "It's just... you're all a family. And I'm just some guy who showed up one day."
"That's not how we think of you," Jameson assured him. "I mean yes, your arrival was a surprise. When we went to investigate that sound that night, we didn't expect it to turn into such a..."
"Complication?"
"No. Such a blessing."
"A blessing? Me?"
"Yeah. We like you, Aidan. We like having you here. We want you to stick around."
"It's just..." Aidan's eyes were still on the floor. "It's hard. Because what you have-- it's what I always wanted. My parents died when I was little, and then I was a foster kid. I always imagined I had some secret family somewhere. A brother, maybe. Who would come get me. And then I got older, and I realized it's just a fantasy. Of course it is. But then I see you and Marshal. So it's something that's real? But just... not for me."
"Oh." Jameson took a deep breath. "I didn't realize..."
"Yeah. It's okay. I'm fine. It's just hard to wrap my head around, you know?" This was getting too awkward, Aidan decided. He should disappear to his room about now...
"Wait, Aidan. It can be real for you too."
"I don't think this kind of thing happens a lot, Jameson. Not everyone is that lucky."
"No, I don't mean that. I mean-- hey, Marshal? Do you think...?" He met Marshal's eyes. Marshal nodded. Jameson went on, "We would be open to having another brother."
“But… I’m not your blood.”
Marshal shrugged. “Blood is really the least important part of this. If it matters to you, though - you actually do share blood with us. You got transfusions from both of us the night we found you. You have blood from both of us running through your veins. And if you want... you could be family too."
"You want me? Really?"
Jameson smiled. "Yeah. We sure do."
Aidan - usually notoriously touch averse - pulled them both into a hug.
***
Marshal was feeling good. The thing with Aidan had gone well. Things with Cait were going well, too. She still loved him. She wanted to be with him. It was okay for her to take time to figure out exactly what being together would entail for her. He had no problem waiting.
In the meantime, he didn't want to pester her, so he held off on making contact with her. (With the exception of texting her one particularly adorable picture of Fievel holding a piece of dried corn in both of his front paws like he was eating a tiny hamburger. It was unfathomable to Marshal that anyone would decline a particularly adorable picture of Fievel at any time.) He spent his time unpacking, making a grocery list, cleaning Fievel's habitat and interacting with him, and planning a movie night that would hopefully be more peaceful than the last attempt.
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Monkey Kitty
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Re: The Golden City
Rhiannon McIvor
The kids and the dog had fairly exploded from the van the moment it was parked. She watched them through the side window, only half paying attention to the cab driver as she paid him. The cost did not register, despite the fact it was not an insignificant sum. Who could put a price on her children’s happiness?
Laughter. Genuine laughter floated through the open van window and she felt it calling to her. Was she truly surprised that her spirit was rising to meet it? No, not really. The weight felt lighter somehow. She knew the feeling was fleeting, but she tried not to let that knowledge steal this momentary joy.
The sight of the children playing in the yard with a bouncing happy dog was also a welcome distraction from the other mystery she was contemplating. Imiel’s true face. A mystery and also - worrying? He seemed so concerned about her being put off by his true form. Should she be? Was she really so shallow to even consider being concerned?
She was overthinking this. Rhiannon had seen Imiel’s heart, after all. What else could matter that much?
__________________________________________________________________________
Imiel
By the time they got back, Imiel was starting to have significant regrets.
He’d had a choice to be honest or to be happy - why on earth had he chosen to be honest?
Would it really have mattered? It wouldn’t even really have been a lie. If he’d just hidden his real face forever, the mask itself would have become what was real. Wouldn’t it? Why had he told her at all?
Ultimately, he was always going to be a little bit alone. Whether among Skrulls with Kree children, or among humans having to hide, there just wasn’t a scenario where he could fit in. Why had he imagined telling her would make any difference in that? A little bit alone was better than completely alone.
Watching her children smile and laugh, Rhiannon looked so happy. He didn’t want to ruin that.
It could wait. Not forever, since he’d opened his big mouth - he cursed his past self - but it could wait a little while.
And he realized what would make it bearable. I don’t want to see her expression. I don’t want to see how she looks at me when she sees the real… me. That seemed like a decent enough compromise.
He didn’t bring the subject up again. He just let them all enjoy the rest of the day. (Imiel enjoyed it too, despite the tight knot of trepidation.) When it was time to take the girls home, he said his goodbyes, then took them home to bed.
Then he had no more excuses.
Imiel snapped a quick selfie; he considered letting low light offer him a little cover, but that would just make it worse. Better to get it over with. Full light, full face, press send before he had a chance to change his mind.
The one and only time she would see this face - at least he’d gotten it over with. Now they could just get back to how things had been. He hoped.
__________________________________________________________________________
Cait McIvor
Cait had watched Marshal climb the steps to his house and disappear inside, smiling to herself as she thought about how lucky she was to have the kind of partner who could take her at her word and leave her to it. It was nice to be trusted. To be hoped in.
She sauntered down the middle of the street, only moving over when a car came up behind her, giving the woman behind the wheel a friendly wave.The work on the lawyer’s house was coming along. Looked like he was getting some landscaping done at the same time as the yard was dug up in places and fresh red mulch surrounded some of the shrubs.
Not for the first time she wondered if she could get used to this. Suburban living. Regular joe. Technically Cait had been trying to stay ‘normal’ this lifetime around before this whole extra-dimensional fiasco. And Morgan le Fay. And a trip to a technologically advanced African society where magic was science. Was there a way she could…try harder? To live a normal life, for Marshal’s sake? That was assuming he wanted a normal life. She should talk to him about this. And other things. Life goals had seemed so unimportant when love was on their lips.
Fortunately, as she’d said - they had all the time in the world. There would be opportunity for her to ask him what he wanted to do with his new lease on life.
Pushing the front door open, the first thing she smelled was a dog. No, not a dog. The dog. A smile rose to her face, erupting into a grin as she passed through into the kitchen and could see said dog through the patio door. Charis and Ewan were both on the grass, rolling the soccer ball between the two of them and the dog. When the ball went wide, the dog would dash forward and nudge it toward Ewan and then wait with his head between his front legs and his tail up in the air. Already part of the family.
She turned to address Rhiannon, who had also been staring out the window at the scene in the backyard, and found that her sister was now staring at her. Oh. Right.
“So, Wakanda is a pretty amazing place.”
“I can well imagine. How are you…did they…?” Rhiannon was understandably flummoxed.
“The bean sidhe were cooperative. Marshal is better now too.”
“That’s…good to hear.” While she seemed genuine in her well-wishes, Rhys also did not seem pleased to be not getting an elaborate explanation for Cait’s return to adulthood.
The sisters returned to their joint staring out the window, silence reigning in the kitchen. Thankfully the fridge cut in before it got awkward.
“I think you were right. The children needed some stability. And the dog…is sufficient.”
Cait let out a barking laugh. “Sufficient? What do you even mean?”
“Well, he’s not as large as I thought he’d be…” she trailed off as the two of them noticed the three outside looking in their direction. The dog was now standing between the kids and the door, staring at Cait.
Cait slid the door open and sat down on the step, extending a hand to the dog with a smile. The dog stayed put, but smelled the air intently.
“You got old again.” Charis observed aloud, presumably for Ewan’s benefit. The girl stood and put a hand on the dog’s shoulder. “It’s okay, that’s Aunt Cait. You met her already…she just…looks different.”
“It’s okay, Bastion. Come on, we can go together.” Ewan stood beside the dog now, holding onto his collar as he motioned him forward.
“A new family and a new name to boot. Well done, dog.” Cait was still smiling even as the dog started at the sound of her voice. He squinted at her then smelled her hand. Clearly he did not like that his nose and his eyes were not agreeing with one another. “I told you this family was weird. You’ll get used to it.” she whispered at him. The dog appeared incredulous.
“Hey! Did you bring my clothes back? I really liked that shirt!” Charis was dealing with the change well - and getting to the important topics at hand.
“Umm…” the topic had been a surprise and Cait failed to adjust her face to disguise the truth.
“REALLY! Ugh! Why? It was a LOAN.” Charis stomped past Cait and into the house, closely followed by Bas and Ewan.
“Glad you’re back.” her nephew whispered as he passed.
“Thanks buddy.” she whispered back.
The kids and the dog could be heard thumping up the stairs moments later. Well, that was that, then. All was as well as it could be. Rhiannon had floated off elsewhere, so Cait went down to the basement where she’d put together a makeshift gym. Okay, so it was just some ropes around an exposed floor joist and an old mattress propped up against the wall that she’d pulled off the street on garbage day, but it was better than nothing.
She began with a Passai, and repeated it twice over, getting a feel for her adult body again. Next, she moved on to a sequence of body weight exercises and pull ups with her rope loops. She used another longer loop as a heavy skipping rope and followed that up with some shadow boxing. As she cooled down with some stretches, her mind wandered to Marshal. She’d had to focus to keep him off her mind during her work out. It had been harder than she’d expected. Now, as her heartbeat slowed and her eyes closed, the happy feelings of the past days bubbled up.
“Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Mo shoraidh slàn leat 's gach àit' an téid thu
'S tric mi sealltainn on chnoc as àirde
Dh'fheuch am faic mi fear a' bhàta
An tig thu 'n-diugh na 'n tig thu màireach
'S mar tig thu idir gur truagh a ta mi”**
Cait opened her eyes to see her sister seated primly on the second-last step, a strange knowing look on her face. For a long time, the two just sat and stared at one another.
“That was lovely. You are a fine soprano.” Rhiannon broke the quiet, choosing to speak aloud instead of telepathically.
Cait felt herself settle in response. While she hadn’t intended to allow those feelings out in the form of a song, it had felt natural somehow. As natural as speaking with her mouth instead of by thought.
“It’s not something I advertise.” somehow she was still defensive. Like she didn’t trust the idea that she could be allowed a softness of any sort. She knew she wasn’t the ‘musical one’ - had never taken lessons as they would not have befit her station.
“A pity. I hope you sing for Marshal sometime.”
A hint of a smile on those thin lips and the squint of her eyes told Cait that she wasn’t holding onto a secret. She smiled back at her sister and realized she wasn’t just flushed from the exercise. It felt a bit silly - to be blushing over a boy - but the thought emboldened her. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.
“He’s a good man. We’re dating. And I love him.”
“Oh?” Rhiannon’s eyebrow raised, her mouth still pulled into that strange little smile that Cait couldn’t quite interpret.
“Yes. As I said, he’s a good man. And Rhys I have met so very few…” Unable to figure out her sister’s thoughts, she opted for a good defense.
“I understand.”
Apparently that defense wasn’t needed. A rush of conviction had flowed over her when Rhiannon spoke those words, causing her to fall silent. The regal sister stood, walked over to where Cait was seated on the floor, then gently folded to sit on the floor before her. In her hand was her cell phone and Rhys looked at it for a long moment before she finally turned the screen toward Cait. The image there was of a Skrull, as far as Cait could recollect from the images she’d seen at SHIELD. Belatedly, she realized this wasn’t just any Skrull.
“This is…”
“Imiel.” Rhiannon finished the sentence for her, and turned the phone back toward herself to stare at the screen again. Her face softened as she cradled the phone in both hands. Cait regarded her closely for a long moment.
“You have also found a good man.” It was a venture to state it that way, but the slightly dopey lovey look on her sister’s face lent her some fortitude. There was a long pause. Perhaps she’d overstepped…
“I have. And isn’t he handsome?”
That…hadn’t been what Cait expected to hear and it showed. Rhiannon, seeing her face, abruptly blushed crimson and looked away, pulling her phone toward her chest. That clearly had seemed weird because she abruptly pulled it away again, and her gaze lingered on the image. She sighed. Cait blinked at her.
“You don’t think…he’ll mind that I think that, do you? I don’t want him to think that I just think he’s exotic or anything as crass as that. I just…” she paused again, hovering over his image.
“I think you should tell him that before he worries himself into an early grave after you haven’t responded to his selfie for an hour.” It was Cait’s turn to add a touch of bemusement to her voice.
Rhiannon’s eyes flared with alarm. “It’s been an hour? But what do I say?”
“How about ‘Ur hawt’?”
This statement earned her a half-hearted glare. Rhiannon was absolutely preoccupied with the answer to this pressing question, appearing more stressed than upset with her for being flippant. Rhys bit her lip, thumbs poised over the keyboard, but frozen in place.
“Well, maybe you need to tell him in person - invite him over for breakfast.”
Apparently this was a better idea as Rhiannon simply started typing without looking up. Cait snuck a peek at the text <Please come for breakfast tomorrow. I want to see you in person.>
“Are you sure you don’t want to just go over there tonight? I can stay with the kids.” It was a genuine offer, but Cait was unable to keep herself from angling her chin downward and wiggling her eyebrows at Rhiannon. This time she received a proper dressing-down glare.
“Tomorrow will suffice. The girls need their rest.” Rhiannon tilted her head upward slightly when she said that, the air of superiority causing Cait to laugh at her. The other sister sniffed and rose to her feet without physical effort and stalked to the stairwell.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m just…”
“My sister.” Rhiannon finished, turning to offer Cait a small smile before climbing the stairs.
Cait couldn’t argue with that. As Rhys disappeared from view, her own phone binged with a message. Marshal. She lay down to reach her phone and stayed on the floor as she brought up the text. A picture of Fievel. She immediately sent a ‘heart’ response and then added <I need to meet this little guy! Tomorrow?>
As her phone screen went black, she caught sight of her own reflection. A dopey lovey kind of face looked back at her. And she was okay with that.
**Lyrics by Sìne NicFhionnlaigh
__________________________________________________________________________
Imiel
She didn’t respond.
Of course she didn’t.
He’d expected that. (Despite a small, foolish glimmer of hope.) After all, what exactly was there to say?
Humans are uncomfortable with aliens. How many times was he going to have to hear it before he finally internalized it?
In her silence, a realization. His loneliness was of his own making. It was born of his stubbornness, of his refusal to change instead of insisting the world change for him. But he was lucky - he could change. He couldn’t be human, but he could be the next best thing.
Normally, in his own home Imiel let down his disguise, and always found it a relief. He’d heard from other Skrulls, though, that the facade was easier to maintain if you kept it up all the time. Maybe there was something to that after all. Maybe in time, he’d get used to it.
Imiel walked into the bathroom, put his human face back on, and looked at himself in the mirror. “My name is George Collins,” he said aloud. “This is who I am now.”
It was… tolerable. If this was the price of community for himself and his daughters, he thought he could pay it. No, no hedging - he could pay it.
His phone made a sound, which startled him, but he went to check it.
The message from Rhiannon left him… confused. Surely she didn’t mean…? Didn’t really mean ‘see’ him. Did she? Or did they just have to have an awkward in-person conversation about his mistake in sending the picture?
Imiel texted her back quickly accepting her invitation, but then lay awake in bed stewing about it for a long time. He continued to wear his human face. Eventually he managed to fall asleep.
In the morning, he followed his usual routine in a daze, getting himself and the girls ready for the day.
“Daddy, why are you wearing your outside face?” Annie asked.
Imiel wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, and distracted her with a choice of cereal.
By the time they arrived at the McIvors’, Imiel felt mostly normal again - although it was a little difficult to quite meet Rhiannon’s eyes. “Good morning,” he said with a smile. “About last night, I’m sorry if I… made a mistake. It’s not one I need to repeat. I hope I haven’t caused any awkwardness between us.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Marshal Knox and Jameson Bryant
Marshal had a good evening. But good evenings weren’t always enough to keep the nightmares at bay, and all the excitement of Wakanda seemed to have put his nervous system into high gear.
The HYDRA asset was on a mission at a cocktail party. It was a fancy affair, a mid-sized event of about thirty people. There could be no witnesses. That meant no survivors.
The asset took out the guards in the ground floor foyer first, applying lethal force quickly in rapid succession before they had time to sound the alarm. Guns would make too much noise, so it was all about brute force.
The elevator doors opened at the penthouse floor. Five more guards in the lobby were reduced to no guards. He pushed open the lacquered double doors.
People screamed, gasped, shouted for the security that wasn’t coming. Cries of “Who the hell are you?” and “Who let him in?”
It didn’t matter. There was no need for secrecy anymore. The asset retrieved the weapon slung over his back and started firing into the crowd as they tried to stampede toward the exits. In moments, it was done. The chaos had been reduced to a sticky pile of bloodied bodies.
The asset stepped over them, assessing the scene. He heard a soft gasp, and followed the sound. A woman in a black sequined dress huddled behind the hors d'oeuvres table. Her eyes were wide with fear as she stared wordlessly at him. The asset put a bullet through her forehead.
A tinny voice came in over his earpiece. “Soldier 25. Mission report?”
The asset tapped his comms to respond. “Mission complete. Hail HYDRA.”
Marshal woke in a cold sweat, heart pounding, gasping for breath.
Where was he? What was happening?
His eyes frantically searched the darkness. What had just happened?
He tore the covers off and stumbled to his feet, careening down the stairs and toward the front door…
Shoes. He saw a line of shoes. A pair of sneakers too big even for his own sizable feet. Purple women’s tennis shoes. Canvas high tops. None of which were his.
Marshal breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m home,” he whispered, calming himself with the sound of the words. “It’s over. I’m home. I’m with my family. Jameson, Maureen, Aidan. I’m okay.”
He could have woken someone up. Told them he had a bad dream. Gotten reassurance. But he didn’t need to. Marshal knew they were there. He could reassure himself.
He went back to bed.
Marshal’s wrists and ankles were shackled. Blood dripped from his broken nose and split lip. Fresh cigarette burns dotted his wrists and chest. His naked body convulsed over and over as the electrodes they had attached all over sent jolts of electricity into him. His jaw clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut. It hurt less if you didn’t see the next thing coming, if you didn’t have time to anticipate it. Then suddenly, nothing. Was it over? Every torture session had to end eventually, right? He tentatively opened one eye… then squeezed it shut again as he heard the sound of the torturer unzipping his fly…
Marshal once again awoke, panting and terrified. He flailed away from an unseen enemy, hitting the back of his head against the headboard. He had to escape, had to get away…
Where was he?
In his room?
He was in his room.
No blood, no shackles, no burns, no… other things.
He was safe. He was okay.
But his body still felt all of it. His confused brain kept sending pain signals from old injuries and past abuses, and…
And Marshal had to make it stop. He picked out a good memory, one that engaged all his senses - cuddling on the sofa with Cait in Wakanda as she read to him. He imagined the feeling of his arms around her. Her hand touching his face. He tried to encase that memory in amber, to hold it tight, to substitute it for the terror that was tearing him apart, and it…
Helped. It really helped.
Marshal knew he could call Cait if he needed to. Yes, he was giving her space, but if it was an emergency, surely she would pick up. But again, he didn’t need to. Knowing she was there, a phone call away, was enough.
He held onto the memory until he drifted again into fitful sleep.
***
At one time - well, for a long time, really - a night like this would have prompted a morning of drinking, to try to hold the memories at bay.
But this morning he didn’t need to, because Maureen was inviting him to do yoga with her - he tried to concentrate on what they’d talked about, ‘reclaiming my body as my own’ - and then Jameson was getting out the breakfast cereal, and then Marshal was being invited for a run with Cait.
It wasn’t… easy. It might never be easy. But it was a hell of a lot easier now that he was no longer alone.
Marshal was tired, though. He hadn’t gotten much sleep. Noticing his dark circles and the multiple cups of coffee, Jameson asked, “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I had a bad night.” Catching Jameson’s look of alarm, Marshal hastily added, “Not that kind. Not the kind where I think about… uh… hurting myself. Just bad dreams.”
“Okay. Sorry you had bad dreams. But glad it wasn’t the other kind.”
“Yeah. The other thing is actually a lot better now. Because you… you said some things to me.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. You said I was a victim of HYDRA, not a perpetrator. You said I wasn’t HYDRA’s man even though I say ‘Hail HYDRA’ in my sleep sometimes - that it’s just bad dreams, not who I am. And that stuff made it easier to want to live.”
“Oh. Well, good. I’m glad. Because those things are true, and we need you here with us.” Jameson gave Marshal’s shoulder a squeeze, then, “On a happier note, are you running with Cait this morning?”
“Yeah. Are you going into S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
A hint of worry crossed the superhero’s face again. “No, not today. I’m still a little… concerned about Aidan. I don’t think we should let him spend too much time alone. Not yet. Thompson is still out there. And there’s something else. There’s…” Jameson’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I sense there’s still a darkness in him. The kind that you know about, and I know about. The kind that says maybe the world is better off without you. I just… don’t want to take a risk with that until we’re sure he’s stable. I’m gonna see if I can talk him into getting some therapy too.”
“Yeah, good call.”
Marshal was in his running shoes - still looking a little tired, but relatively alert and ready to go at the appointed time for his run with Cait. “Good morning,” he said with a smile. He didn’t kiss her, not where her family might see. If they ran far enough, though, if they really got away, maybe she’d allow him a brief smooch.
__________________________________________________________________________
Rhiannon McIvor
She could tell by his response that he was unsure of what she meant by her invitation. In a way, she was too. Not unsure of how she felt about him, rather unsure of how to proceed. It really hadn’t struck her how different they might be while he was wearing his human face. She should have been able to grasp the concept, having been raised in many different cultures over the centuries, but still - all those cultures had been human. There had been threads to tie them together, even if beliefs and practices had been vastly different. Same sun, same sky, she supposed.
So, she had some studying to do.
Rhiannon had often thrown herself into books in preparation for meeting new dignitaries and she supposed that this was no different, though it certainly felt like more of an emergency. She knew, well, really nothing about the Skrull other than that they had a mortal enemy and some of them were hiding on Earth. It was high time she gave herself as much of an education as the internet would allow.
Three hours later:
“The internet is the worst invention of the century. The worst. How does anyone find anything of any value on this hideous excuse for a library?” Rhiannon had taken to muttering this to herself over and over as she scrolled through garbage and very little fact under the search term ‘Skrull’. The few things she learned that seemed to be actual fact were that the chief enemy of the Skrull were the Kree and that Skrull were shapeshifters. So, she now knew that the Imiel’s girls must be Kree, and that Imiel could technically look like anyone he liked.
The garbage was difficult to ignore. Some of it made her question her sanity. Some of it made her question her motivations. At this point, she turned off her phone and lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The flotsam would dissipate with time, but her motivations? Those she needed to inspect more carefully - for her sake, for Imiel’s, for the children each of them cared for.
Two hours later:
Rhiannon was absolutely certain that her feelings for Imiel were entirely independent of his looks. But she was equally certain that she found his Skrull form incredibly attractive. Why she thought the latter was true was somewhat of a mystery, likely continuing to be a mystery because it was now 4:30 in the morning and quite frankly her brain was not working as well as it should. And she had invited him over for breakfast like a total fool. Now she wasn’t going to be well-rested and she’d be even more likely to say something stupid or insensitive…
Two more hours later:
She had splashed cold water on her face, applied some foundation to the circles under her eyes, and drank her first cup of coffee ever before she started preparing some things for breakfast. The children were not up, but she couldn’t lie in bed any longer. Rhiannon was doing her best not to focus on the possible negatives - her being silly or rude - and focus on the possible positives - Imiel saying that he was glad to be himself, the girls playing with her kids and Bastion.
Rhiannon met Imiel at the door, Annie running past her squealing with delight and Bas responding with a joyful bark. Charis and Ewan tumbled down the stairs a moment after and the four of them went to the kitchen, leaving the adults and little Mia in the foyer. Rhys sought out Imiel’s eye contact, even dipping her head slightly in an attempt to meet his gaze. A blush came to her cheeks when he made his apology and she swallowed hard as she realized the pain she must have caused him by her poor response to his openness.
“Oh Imiel, you made no mistake. It is I…that is…I should have written…”
Why was she stumbling over her words all of a sudden? She was never tongue-tied! What a terrible time to find out that she could be nervous like any other human, meta or otherwise! A feeling of panic tightened her chest. She felt a little light-headed. Perhaps trying coffee this morning for the first time wasn’t the best idea as her mouth seemed to suddenly move on its own..
“That I find you very attractive and I just didn’t know how to say that in a text without sounding odd and I suppose I could have just phoned but it was late and I was so distracted by your picture and…and…I”
Rhiannon gasped for air, her next breath letting out a light giggle. She heard it, looked away, made a visible effort to calm herself and take a breath, then met Imiel’s eye.
“Hem, what I mean is that I am quite taken with you and I do hope that you would feel comfortable enough around me to be as yourself, without your human guise. If…if that’s what you want, of course.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Cait McIvorr
She could hear Rhiannon tossing and turning for most of the night, which meant that she also did not get much sleep. When Cait got up on one of her customary night walks around the perimeter, she saw that Bastion was sleeping on the floor between Charis and Ewan’s rooms. He’d clearly dragged his dog bed up the stairs to be there as last she’d seen it, it was in a corner of the living room. She knew he’d be a good choice. Bas saw her and his head went up, his whole body suddenly at attention. Cait nodded to him, then stalked silently down the stairs. She checked every room in the house, looked out the windows at the street and backyard, then took a short walk around the fenceline, listening to the night sounds of a suburban neighbourhood at rest.
Cait was used to getting up several times a night, but she was also used to getting naps during the day to make up for it. She had definitely not been getting those naps lately and she wondered if she should bother trying to reincorporate them into her schedule. Most other people seemed up all day - and they’d expect it from a normal job, to be sure - but Cait balked at the idea of being ‘most other people’. She wasn’t wired that way and she didn’t want to start playing with part of herself that she didn’t think was broken to begin with. While employment and being employable was close to the top of her list, Cait was at a loss as to where to start.
At least for today, she could start with a run with Marshal. She had swallowed a cup of coffee before the pot had finished brewing and stole two sausages out of the pan while Rhys was frying them and held them in her mouth while she tied her shoes at the front door. She didn’t want to be around when Imiel and his girls came over. Rhiannon had enough to do getting out of her own way, so Cait thought she should simplify things by making herself scarce. Besides, Marshal had promised to run with her when they got back.
He was on the sidewalk right outside when she stepped out the door. She grinned, jogged up and stretched up on tiptoe to give him a rather greasy kiss. The offending sausages were still in her hand and she offered him one, bite marks and all. She noticed that he looked a bit ragged around the edges. Tasted the coffee on his lips. Saw the circles under his eyes - like the ones Rhys had tried to powder off her face. Wakanda had been amazing, and Marshal had certainly obtained some relief, but coming home had its own set of challenges - even without the evil brain programming and death sentence. She decided to let things be for now and just see what the day would bring. If there was something he wanted to talk about, they had all day.
“Let’s make it an easy one this morning? I haven’t been running much the last couple of weeks. Maybe take a tour of the neighbourhood?” she offered, dancing lightly backwards across the lawn, her right arm pulled across her body in a stretch. Even easy runs needed warmups.
__________________________________________________________________________
Imiel
“You…? Oh.” Imiel was surprised, and blushed instinctively. He hadn’t known what to expect from this meeting, but he certainly hadn’t expected that.
“I just didn’t think… that I would ever find someone who could accept all of me. My life has been separated into different compartments for so long that being able to be a whole person with someone is hard to imagine. But imagining it sounds… nice.”
He realized he was still wearing his human face. And that he didn’t have to anymore. So he dropped it, letting her see him face to face. No distance of phones between them, and no more pretense.
“I don’t think your family will be too alarmed,” he added a little ruefully. “Charis already saw - by mistake, not by my choice. So if you… um…?”
Imiel grinned at her. The relief of not having to hide was palpable.
“I’m glad I get to be myself around you. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. And into your life. The real me.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Marshal
Marshal accepted the offered sausage, and the kiss. “Thanks, beautiful,” he said with a smile.
He was a little surprised she was willing to kiss him out here in the open; apparently she hadn’t wasted any time hashing out the subject with her sister, if secrecy was no longer required.
“Yeah, an easy one around the neighborhood sounds good. I had a rough night last night - as I’m sure you can tell - so I’m not exactly at peak performance.” Just so she wouldn’t be anxious about him, he added. “Not the suicidal kind of rough night, don’t worry. Just nightmares kept waking me up.”
A stab of guilt shot through him, remembering the nightmares - the things he had done - and he worried that maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. But no, this was Cait. She had her own past. She wasn’t going to start hating him for his. He could relax.
It did bring up another worry, though. Marshal hoped that Cait might want to… uh… share a bed with him someday. But it would be unfair to subject her to a night like last night. Maybe she was already considering that too.
So he added hastily, “I’m gonna ask my doc to give me something for the nightmares. Some kind of medicine to fix it. So it won’t be a problem for… you know. Uh… us.”
There had to be something. Because Marshal didn’t want to have to wake up alone every morning for the rest of his life…
“So I guess things worked out with your family, huh? Since I notice kissing is allowed this morning - which I am not complaining about at all, for the record.”
The kids and the dog had fairly exploded from the van the moment it was parked. She watched them through the side window, only half paying attention to the cab driver as she paid him. The cost did not register, despite the fact it was not an insignificant sum. Who could put a price on her children’s happiness?
Laughter. Genuine laughter floated through the open van window and she felt it calling to her. Was she truly surprised that her spirit was rising to meet it? No, not really. The weight felt lighter somehow. She knew the feeling was fleeting, but she tried not to let that knowledge steal this momentary joy.
The sight of the children playing in the yard with a bouncing happy dog was also a welcome distraction from the other mystery she was contemplating. Imiel’s true face. A mystery and also - worrying? He seemed so concerned about her being put off by his true form. Should she be? Was she really so shallow to even consider being concerned?
She was overthinking this. Rhiannon had seen Imiel’s heart, after all. What else could matter that much?
__________________________________________________________________________
Imiel
By the time they got back, Imiel was starting to have significant regrets.
He’d had a choice to be honest or to be happy - why on earth had he chosen to be honest?
Would it really have mattered? It wouldn’t even really have been a lie. If he’d just hidden his real face forever, the mask itself would have become what was real. Wouldn’t it? Why had he told her at all?
Ultimately, he was always going to be a little bit alone. Whether among Skrulls with Kree children, or among humans having to hide, there just wasn’t a scenario where he could fit in. Why had he imagined telling her would make any difference in that? A little bit alone was better than completely alone.
Watching her children smile and laugh, Rhiannon looked so happy. He didn’t want to ruin that.
It could wait. Not forever, since he’d opened his big mouth - he cursed his past self - but it could wait a little while.
And he realized what would make it bearable. I don’t want to see her expression. I don’t want to see how she looks at me when she sees the real… me. That seemed like a decent enough compromise.
He didn’t bring the subject up again. He just let them all enjoy the rest of the day. (Imiel enjoyed it too, despite the tight knot of trepidation.) When it was time to take the girls home, he said his goodbyes, then took them home to bed.
Then he had no more excuses.
Imiel snapped a quick selfie; he considered letting low light offer him a little cover, but that would just make it worse. Better to get it over with. Full light, full face, press send before he had a chance to change his mind.
The one and only time she would see this face - at least he’d gotten it over with. Now they could just get back to how things had been. He hoped.
__________________________________________________________________________
Cait McIvor
Cait had watched Marshal climb the steps to his house and disappear inside, smiling to herself as she thought about how lucky she was to have the kind of partner who could take her at her word and leave her to it. It was nice to be trusted. To be hoped in.
She sauntered down the middle of the street, only moving over when a car came up behind her, giving the woman behind the wheel a friendly wave.The work on the lawyer’s house was coming along. Looked like he was getting some landscaping done at the same time as the yard was dug up in places and fresh red mulch surrounded some of the shrubs.
Not for the first time she wondered if she could get used to this. Suburban living. Regular joe. Technically Cait had been trying to stay ‘normal’ this lifetime around before this whole extra-dimensional fiasco. And Morgan le Fay. And a trip to a technologically advanced African society where magic was science. Was there a way she could…try harder? To live a normal life, for Marshal’s sake? That was assuming he wanted a normal life. She should talk to him about this. And other things. Life goals had seemed so unimportant when love was on their lips.
Fortunately, as she’d said - they had all the time in the world. There would be opportunity for her to ask him what he wanted to do with his new lease on life.
Pushing the front door open, the first thing she smelled was a dog. No, not a dog. The dog. A smile rose to her face, erupting into a grin as she passed through into the kitchen and could see said dog through the patio door. Charis and Ewan were both on the grass, rolling the soccer ball between the two of them and the dog. When the ball went wide, the dog would dash forward and nudge it toward Ewan and then wait with his head between his front legs and his tail up in the air. Already part of the family.
She turned to address Rhiannon, who had also been staring out the window at the scene in the backyard, and found that her sister was now staring at her. Oh. Right.
“So, Wakanda is a pretty amazing place.”
“I can well imagine. How are you…did they…?” Rhiannon was understandably flummoxed.
“The bean sidhe were cooperative. Marshal is better now too.”
“That’s…good to hear.” While she seemed genuine in her well-wishes, Rhys also did not seem pleased to be not getting an elaborate explanation for Cait’s return to adulthood.
The sisters returned to their joint staring out the window, silence reigning in the kitchen. Thankfully the fridge cut in before it got awkward.
“I think you were right. The children needed some stability. And the dog…is sufficient.”
Cait let out a barking laugh. “Sufficient? What do you even mean?”
“Well, he’s not as large as I thought he’d be…” she trailed off as the two of them noticed the three outside looking in their direction. The dog was now standing between the kids and the door, staring at Cait.
Cait slid the door open and sat down on the step, extending a hand to the dog with a smile. The dog stayed put, but smelled the air intently.
“You got old again.” Charis observed aloud, presumably for Ewan’s benefit. The girl stood and put a hand on the dog’s shoulder. “It’s okay, that’s Aunt Cait. You met her already…she just…looks different.”
“It’s okay, Bastion. Come on, we can go together.” Ewan stood beside the dog now, holding onto his collar as he motioned him forward.
“A new family and a new name to boot. Well done, dog.” Cait was still smiling even as the dog started at the sound of her voice. He squinted at her then smelled her hand. Clearly he did not like that his nose and his eyes were not agreeing with one another. “I told you this family was weird. You’ll get used to it.” she whispered at him. The dog appeared incredulous.
“Hey! Did you bring my clothes back? I really liked that shirt!” Charis was dealing with the change well - and getting to the important topics at hand.
“Umm…” the topic had been a surprise and Cait failed to adjust her face to disguise the truth.
“REALLY! Ugh! Why? It was a LOAN.” Charis stomped past Cait and into the house, closely followed by Bas and Ewan.
“Glad you’re back.” her nephew whispered as he passed.
“Thanks buddy.” she whispered back.
The kids and the dog could be heard thumping up the stairs moments later. Well, that was that, then. All was as well as it could be. Rhiannon had floated off elsewhere, so Cait went down to the basement where she’d put together a makeshift gym. Okay, so it was just some ropes around an exposed floor joist and an old mattress propped up against the wall that she’d pulled off the street on garbage day, but it was better than nothing.
She began with a Passai, and repeated it twice over, getting a feel for her adult body again. Next, she moved on to a sequence of body weight exercises and pull ups with her rope loops. She used another longer loop as a heavy skipping rope and followed that up with some shadow boxing. As she cooled down with some stretches, her mind wandered to Marshal. She’d had to focus to keep him off her mind during her work out. It had been harder than she’d expected. Now, as her heartbeat slowed and her eyes closed, the happy feelings of the past days bubbled up.
“Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Mo shoraidh slàn leat 's gach àit' an téid thu
'S tric mi sealltainn on chnoc as àirde
Dh'fheuch am faic mi fear a' bhàta
An tig thu 'n-diugh na 'n tig thu màireach
'S mar tig thu idir gur truagh a ta mi”**
Cait opened her eyes to see her sister seated primly on the second-last step, a strange knowing look on her face. For a long time, the two just sat and stared at one another.
“That was lovely. You are a fine soprano.” Rhiannon broke the quiet, choosing to speak aloud instead of telepathically.
Cait felt herself settle in response. While she hadn’t intended to allow those feelings out in the form of a song, it had felt natural somehow. As natural as speaking with her mouth instead of by thought.
“It’s not something I advertise.” somehow she was still defensive. Like she didn’t trust the idea that she could be allowed a softness of any sort. She knew she wasn’t the ‘musical one’ - had never taken lessons as they would not have befit her station.
“A pity. I hope you sing for Marshal sometime.”
A hint of a smile on those thin lips and the squint of her eyes told Cait that she wasn’t holding onto a secret. She smiled back at her sister and realized she wasn’t just flushed from the exercise. It felt a bit silly - to be blushing over a boy - but the thought emboldened her. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.
“He’s a good man. We’re dating. And I love him.”
“Oh?” Rhiannon’s eyebrow raised, her mouth still pulled into that strange little smile that Cait couldn’t quite interpret.
“Yes. As I said, he’s a good man. And Rhys I have met so very few…” Unable to figure out her sister’s thoughts, she opted for a good defense.
“I understand.”
Apparently that defense wasn’t needed. A rush of conviction had flowed over her when Rhiannon spoke those words, causing her to fall silent. The regal sister stood, walked over to where Cait was seated on the floor, then gently folded to sit on the floor before her. In her hand was her cell phone and Rhys looked at it for a long moment before she finally turned the screen toward Cait. The image there was of a Skrull, as far as Cait could recollect from the images she’d seen at SHIELD. Belatedly, she realized this wasn’t just any Skrull.
“This is…”
“Imiel.” Rhiannon finished the sentence for her, and turned the phone back toward herself to stare at the screen again. Her face softened as she cradled the phone in both hands. Cait regarded her closely for a long moment.
“You have also found a good man.” It was a venture to state it that way, but the slightly dopey lovey look on her sister’s face lent her some fortitude. There was a long pause. Perhaps she’d overstepped…
“I have. And isn’t he handsome?”
That…hadn’t been what Cait expected to hear and it showed. Rhiannon, seeing her face, abruptly blushed crimson and looked away, pulling her phone toward her chest. That clearly had seemed weird because she abruptly pulled it away again, and her gaze lingered on the image. She sighed. Cait blinked at her.
“You don’t think…he’ll mind that I think that, do you? I don’t want him to think that I just think he’s exotic or anything as crass as that. I just…” she paused again, hovering over his image.
“I think you should tell him that before he worries himself into an early grave after you haven’t responded to his selfie for an hour.” It was Cait’s turn to add a touch of bemusement to her voice.
Rhiannon’s eyes flared with alarm. “It’s been an hour? But what do I say?”
“How about ‘Ur hawt’?”
This statement earned her a half-hearted glare. Rhiannon was absolutely preoccupied with the answer to this pressing question, appearing more stressed than upset with her for being flippant. Rhys bit her lip, thumbs poised over the keyboard, but frozen in place.
“Well, maybe you need to tell him in person - invite him over for breakfast.”
Apparently this was a better idea as Rhiannon simply started typing without looking up. Cait snuck a peek at the text <Please come for breakfast tomorrow. I want to see you in person.>
“Are you sure you don’t want to just go over there tonight? I can stay with the kids.” It was a genuine offer, but Cait was unable to keep herself from angling her chin downward and wiggling her eyebrows at Rhiannon. This time she received a proper dressing-down glare.
“Tomorrow will suffice. The girls need their rest.” Rhiannon tilted her head upward slightly when she said that, the air of superiority causing Cait to laugh at her. The other sister sniffed and rose to her feet without physical effort and stalked to the stairwell.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m just…”
“My sister.” Rhiannon finished, turning to offer Cait a small smile before climbing the stairs.
Cait couldn’t argue with that. As Rhys disappeared from view, her own phone binged with a message. Marshal. She lay down to reach her phone and stayed on the floor as she brought up the text. A picture of Fievel. She immediately sent a ‘heart’ response and then added <I need to meet this little guy! Tomorrow?>
As her phone screen went black, she caught sight of her own reflection. A dopey lovey kind of face looked back at her. And she was okay with that.
**Lyrics by Sìne NicFhionnlaigh
__________________________________________________________________________
Imiel
She didn’t respond.
Of course she didn’t.
He’d expected that. (Despite a small, foolish glimmer of hope.) After all, what exactly was there to say?
Humans are uncomfortable with aliens. How many times was he going to have to hear it before he finally internalized it?
In her silence, a realization. His loneliness was of his own making. It was born of his stubbornness, of his refusal to change instead of insisting the world change for him. But he was lucky - he could change. He couldn’t be human, but he could be the next best thing.
Normally, in his own home Imiel let down his disguise, and always found it a relief. He’d heard from other Skrulls, though, that the facade was easier to maintain if you kept it up all the time. Maybe there was something to that after all. Maybe in time, he’d get used to it.
Imiel walked into the bathroom, put his human face back on, and looked at himself in the mirror. “My name is George Collins,” he said aloud. “This is who I am now.”
It was… tolerable. If this was the price of community for himself and his daughters, he thought he could pay it. No, no hedging - he could pay it.
His phone made a sound, which startled him, but he went to check it.
The message from Rhiannon left him… confused. Surely she didn’t mean…? Didn’t really mean ‘see’ him. Did she? Or did they just have to have an awkward in-person conversation about his mistake in sending the picture?
Imiel texted her back quickly accepting her invitation, but then lay awake in bed stewing about it for a long time. He continued to wear his human face. Eventually he managed to fall asleep.
In the morning, he followed his usual routine in a daze, getting himself and the girls ready for the day.
“Daddy, why are you wearing your outside face?” Annie asked.
Imiel wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, and distracted her with a choice of cereal.
By the time they arrived at the McIvors’, Imiel felt mostly normal again - although it was a little difficult to quite meet Rhiannon’s eyes. “Good morning,” he said with a smile. “About last night, I’m sorry if I… made a mistake. It’s not one I need to repeat. I hope I haven’t caused any awkwardness between us.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Marshal Knox and Jameson Bryant
Marshal had a good evening. But good evenings weren’t always enough to keep the nightmares at bay, and all the excitement of Wakanda seemed to have put his nervous system into high gear.
The HYDRA asset was on a mission at a cocktail party. It was a fancy affair, a mid-sized event of about thirty people. There could be no witnesses. That meant no survivors.
The asset took out the guards in the ground floor foyer first, applying lethal force quickly in rapid succession before they had time to sound the alarm. Guns would make too much noise, so it was all about brute force.
The elevator doors opened at the penthouse floor. Five more guards in the lobby were reduced to no guards. He pushed open the lacquered double doors.
People screamed, gasped, shouted for the security that wasn’t coming. Cries of “Who the hell are you?” and “Who let him in?”
It didn’t matter. There was no need for secrecy anymore. The asset retrieved the weapon slung over his back and started firing into the crowd as they tried to stampede toward the exits. In moments, it was done. The chaos had been reduced to a sticky pile of bloodied bodies.
The asset stepped over them, assessing the scene. He heard a soft gasp, and followed the sound. A woman in a black sequined dress huddled behind the hors d'oeuvres table. Her eyes were wide with fear as she stared wordlessly at him. The asset put a bullet through her forehead.
A tinny voice came in over his earpiece. “Soldier 25. Mission report?”
The asset tapped his comms to respond. “Mission complete. Hail HYDRA.”
Marshal woke in a cold sweat, heart pounding, gasping for breath.
Where was he? What was happening?
His eyes frantically searched the darkness. What had just happened?
He tore the covers off and stumbled to his feet, careening down the stairs and toward the front door…
Shoes. He saw a line of shoes. A pair of sneakers too big even for his own sizable feet. Purple women’s tennis shoes. Canvas high tops. None of which were his.
Marshal breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m home,” he whispered, calming himself with the sound of the words. “It’s over. I’m home. I’m with my family. Jameson, Maureen, Aidan. I’m okay.”
He could have woken someone up. Told them he had a bad dream. Gotten reassurance. But he didn’t need to. Marshal knew they were there. He could reassure himself.
He went back to bed.
Marshal’s wrists and ankles were shackled. Blood dripped from his broken nose and split lip. Fresh cigarette burns dotted his wrists and chest. His naked body convulsed over and over as the electrodes they had attached all over sent jolts of electricity into him. His jaw clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut. It hurt less if you didn’t see the next thing coming, if you didn’t have time to anticipate it. Then suddenly, nothing. Was it over? Every torture session had to end eventually, right? He tentatively opened one eye… then squeezed it shut again as he heard the sound of the torturer unzipping his fly…
Marshal once again awoke, panting and terrified. He flailed away from an unseen enemy, hitting the back of his head against the headboard. He had to escape, had to get away…
Where was he?
In his room?
He was in his room.
No blood, no shackles, no burns, no… other things.
He was safe. He was okay.
But his body still felt all of it. His confused brain kept sending pain signals from old injuries and past abuses, and…
And Marshal had to make it stop. He picked out a good memory, one that engaged all his senses - cuddling on the sofa with Cait in Wakanda as she read to him. He imagined the feeling of his arms around her. Her hand touching his face. He tried to encase that memory in amber, to hold it tight, to substitute it for the terror that was tearing him apart, and it…
Helped. It really helped.
Marshal knew he could call Cait if he needed to. Yes, he was giving her space, but if it was an emergency, surely she would pick up. But again, he didn’t need to. Knowing she was there, a phone call away, was enough.
He held onto the memory until he drifted again into fitful sleep.
***
At one time - well, for a long time, really - a night like this would have prompted a morning of drinking, to try to hold the memories at bay.
But this morning he didn’t need to, because Maureen was inviting him to do yoga with her - he tried to concentrate on what they’d talked about, ‘reclaiming my body as my own’ - and then Jameson was getting out the breakfast cereal, and then Marshal was being invited for a run with Cait.
It wasn’t… easy. It might never be easy. But it was a hell of a lot easier now that he was no longer alone.
Marshal was tired, though. He hadn’t gotten much sleep. Noticing his dark circles and the multiple cups of coffee, Jameson asked, “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I had a bad night.” Catching Jameson’s look of alarm, Marshal hastily added, “Not that kind. Not the kind where I think about… uh… hurting myself. Just bad dreams.”
“Okay. Sorry you had bad dreams. But glad it wasn’t the other kind.”
“Yeah. The other thing is actually a lot better now. Because you… you said some things to me.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. You said I was a victim of HYDRA, not a perpetrator. You said I wasn’t HYDRA’s man even though I say ‘Hail HYDRA’ in my sleep sometimes - that it’s just bad dreams, not who I am. And that stuff made it easier to want to live.”
“Oh. Well, good. I’m glad. Because those things are true, and we need you here with us.” Jameson gave Marshal’s shoulder a squeeze, then, “On a happier note, are you running with Cait this morning?”
“Yeah. Are you going into S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
A hint of worry crossed the superhero’s face again. “No, not today. I’m still a little… concerned about Aidan. I don’t think we should let him spend too much time alone. Not yet. Thompson is still out there. And there’s something else. There’s…” Jameson’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I sense there’s still a darkness in him. The kind that you know about, and I know about. The kind that says maybe the world is better off without you. I just… don’t want to take a risk with that until we’re sure he’s stable. I’m gonna see if I can talk him into getting some therapy too.”
“Yeah, good call.”
Marshal was in his running shoes - still looking a little tired, but relatively alert and ready to go at the appointed time for his run with Cait. “Good morning,” he said with a smile. He didn’t kiss her, not where her family might see. If they ran far enough, though, if they really got away, maybe she’d allow him a brief smooch.
__________________________________________________________________________
Rhiannon McIvor
She could tell by his response that he was unsure of what she meant by her invitation. In a way, she was too. Not unsure of how she felt about him, rather unsure of how to proceed. It really hadn’t struck her how different they might be while he was wearing his human face. She should have been able to grasp the concept, having been raised in many different cultures over the centuries, but still - all those cultures had been human. There had been threads to tie them together, even if beliefs and practices had been vastly different. Same sun, same sky, she supposed.
So, she had some studying to do.
Rhiannon had often thrown herself into books in preparation for meeting new dignitaries and she supposed that this was no different, though it certainly felt like more of an emergency. She knew, well, really nothing about the Skrull other than that they had a mortal enemy and some of them were hiding on Earth. It was high time she gave herself as much of an education as the internet would allow.
Three hours later:
“The internet is the worst invention of the century. The worst. How does anyone find anything of any value on this hideous excuse for a library?” Rhiannon had taken to muttering this to herself over and over as she scrolled through garbage and very little fact under the search term ‘Skrull’. The few things she learned that seemed to be actual fact were that the chief enemy of the Skrull were the Kree and that Skrull were shapeshifters. So, she now knew that the Imiel’s girls must be Kree, and that Imiel could technically look like anyone he liked.
The garbage was difficult to ignore. Some of it made her question her sanity. Some of it made her question her motivations. At this point, she turned off her phone and lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The flotsam would dissipate with time, but her motivations? Those she needed to inspect more carefully - for her sake, for Imiel’s, for the children each of them cared for.
Two hours later:
Rhiannon was absolutely certain that her feelings for Imiel were entirely independent of his looks. But she was equally certain that she found his Skrull form incredibly attractive. Why she thought the latter was true was somewhat of a mystery, likely continuing to be a mystery because it was now 4:30 in the morning and quite frankly her brain was not working as well as it should. And she had invited him over for breakfast like a total fool. Now she wasn’t going to be well-rested and she’d be even more likely to say something stupid or insensitive…
Two more hours later:
She had splashed cold water on her face, applied some foundation to the circles under her eyes, and drank her first cup of coffee ever before she started preparing some things for breakfast. The children were not up, but she couldn’t lie in bed any longer. Rhiannon was doing her best not to focus on the possible negatives - her being silly or rude - and focus on the possible positives - Imiel saying that he was glad to be himself, the girls playing with her kids and Bastion.
Rhiannon met Imiel at the door, Annie running past her squealing with delight and Bas responding with a joyful bark. Charis and Ewan tumbled down the stairs a moment after and the four of them went to the kitchen, leaving the adults and little Mia in the foyer. Rhys sought out Imiel’s eye contact, even dipping her head slightly in an attempt to meet his gaze. A blush came to her cheeks when he made his apology and she swallowed hard as she realized the pain she must have caused him by her poor response to his openness.
“Oh Imiel, you made no mistake. It is I…that is…I should have written…”
Why was she stumbling over her words all of a sudden? She was never tongue-tied! What a terrible time to find out that she could be nervous like any other human, meta or otherwise! A feeling of panic tightened her chest. She felt a little light-headed. Perhaps trying coffee this morning for the first time wasn’t the best idea as her mouth seemed to suddenly move on its own..
“That I find you very attractive and I just didn’t know how to say that in a text without sounding odd and I suppose I could have just phoned but it was late and I was so distracted by your picture and…and…I”
Rhiannon gasped for air, her next breath letting out a light giggle. She heard it, looked away, made a visible effort to calm herself and take a breath, then met Imiel’s eye.
“Hem, what I mean is that I am quite taken with you and I do hope that you would feel comfortable enough around me to be as yourself, without your human guise. If…if that’s what you want, of course.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Cait McIvorr
She could hear Rhiannon tossing and turning for most of the night, which meant that she also did not get much sleep. When Cait got up on one of her customary night walks around the perimeter, she saw that Bastion was sleeping on the floor between Charis and Ewan’s rooms. He’d clearly dragged his dog bed up the stairs to be there as last she’d seen it, it was in a corner of the living room. She knew he’d be a good choice. Bas saw her and his head went up, his whole body suddenly at attention. Cait nodded to him, then stalked silently down the stairs. She checked every room in the house, looked out the windows at the street and backyard, then took a short walk around the fenceline, listening to the night sounds of a suburban neighbourhood at rest.
Cait was used to getting up several times a night, but she was also used to getting naps during the day to make up for it. She had definitely not been getting those naps lately and she wondered if she should bother trying to reincorporate them into her schedule. Most other people seemed up all day - and they’d expect it from a normal job, to be sure - but Cait balked at the idea of being ‘most other people’. She wasn’t wired that way and she didn’t want to start playing with part of herself that she didn’t think was broken to begin with. While employment and being employable was close to the top of her list, Cait was at a loss as to where to start.
At least for today, she could start with a run with Marshal. She had swallowed a cup of coffee before the pot had finished brewing and stole two sausages out of the pan while Rhys was frying them and held them in her mouth while she tied her shoes at the front door. She didn’t want to be around when Imiel and his girls came over. Rhiannon had enough to do getting out of her own way, so Cait thought she should simplify things by making herself scarce. Besides, Marshal had promised to run with her when they got back.
He was on the sidewalk right outside when she stepped out the door. She grinned, jogged up and stretched up on tiptoe to give him a rather greasy kiss. The offending sausages were still in her hand and she offered him one, bite marks and all. She noticed that he looked a bit ragged around the edges. Tasted the coffee on his lips. Saw the circles under his eyes - like the ones Rhys had tried to powder off her face. Wakanda had been amazing, and Marshal had certainly obtained some relief, but coming home had its own set of challenges - even without the evil brain programming and death sentence. She decided to let things be for now and just see what the day would bring. If there was something he wanted to talk about, they had all day.
“Let’s make it an easy one this morning? I haven’t been running much the last couple of weeks. Maybe take a tour of the neighbourhood?” she offered, dancing lightly backwards across the lawn, her right arm pulled across her body in a stretch. Even easy runs needed warmups.
__________________________________________________________________________
Imiel
“You…? Oh.” Imiel was surprised, and blushed instinctively. He hadn’t known what to expect from this meeting, but he certainly hadn’t expected that.
“I just didn’t think… that I would ever find someone who could accept all of me. My life has been separated into different compartments for so long that being able to be a whole person with someone is hard to imagine. But imagining it sounds… nice.”
He realized he was still wearing his human face. And that he didn’t have to anymore. So he dropped it, letting her see him face to face. No distance of phones between them, and no more pretense.
“I don’t think your family will be too alarmed,” he added a little ruefully. “Charis already saw - by mistake, not by my choice. So if you… um…?”
Imiel grinned at her. The relief of not having to hide was palpable.
“I’m glad I get to be myself around you. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. And into your life. The real me.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Marshal
Marshal accepted the offered sausage, and the kiss. “Thanks, beautiful,” he said with a smile.
He was a little surprised she was willing to kiss him out here in the open; apparently she hadn’t wasted any time hashing out the subject with her sister, if secrecy was no longer required.
“Yeah, an easy one around the neighborhood sounds good. I had a rough night last night - as I’m sure you can tell - so I’m not exactly at peak performance.” Just so she wouldn’t be anxious about him, he added. “Not the suicidal kind of rough night, don’t worry. Just nightmares kept waking me up.”
A stab of guilt shot through him, remembering the nightmares - the things he had done - and he worried that maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. But no, this was Cait. She had her own past. She wasn’t going to start hating him for his. He could relax.
It did bring up another worry, though. Marshal hoped that Cait might want to… uh… share a bed with him someday. But it would be unfair to subject her to a night like last night. Maybe she was already considering that too.
So he added hastily, “I’m gonna ask my doc to give me something for the nightmares. Some kind of medicine to fix it. So it won’t be a problem for… you know. Uh… us.”
There had to be something. Because Marshal didn’t want to have to wake up alone every morning for the rest of his life…
“So I guess things worked out with your family, huh? Since I notice kissing is allowed this morning - which I am not complaining about at all, for the record.”