Quarrels and Quills

Jameson Bryant, Marshal Knox, and Aidan

“I have… something I need to tell you,” Jameson told Marshal. This conversation was going to be a lot harder than the one with Hill. “Can we sit down for a sec?”

Marshal sat with him. Worried. Trusting.

“I just got a phone call,” Jameson said. “There’s no easy way to say this. The person claimed to be HYDRA. They tried to get me to give you back to them. I hope you understand by now that that is never going to happen. That as long as there’s breath in my body, you’re never going to be alone and abandoned. That I’ll protect you. I tricked them - put them off - and I think it worked for now. But we’re going to have to be careful. I’m sorry.”

Panic welled up in Marshal’s chest. They wanted him back? They were going to torture him again. Soften him up. Break him. Then put him back in that chair. That chair. Take his mind away. He was going to be a killer again.

No. No, he told himself, that wasn’t true. He looked over at Jameson. Really looked. Saw the love and worry on his brother’s face. Saw the outstretched hand. He took it and squeezed it.

“It’s okay,” Marshal said. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to be.”

“Yeah. I’m really okay. You’re keeping me. You love me. You don't let people hurt me. I don’t have to go back to them. It’s going to be alright. I’m going to be alright.”

Jameson squeezed his hand back. “Yes. Yes, you are.”


***


Marshal had assumed he would be saying goodbye to Cait. He was taken a little aback when she instead expressed the desire to go. Well, more like insistence on going. At first he was alarmed - less than twenty-four hours earlier, he had been facing the possibility of spending his life in prison for murder, and now he was looking at adding international kidnapping to the list of things to potentially put him behind bars? But Cait didn’t really have a guardian, and so didn’t have anyone to object. The trip was for medical purposes, not for fun, so it would probably be boring for a kid. Scary things might happen, if that medical stuff didn’t go well. Did that mean he was supposed to say no? Was it even his place to say no? He wished he’d had a chance to read those books. Was this situation even covered? He decided not to interfere, and just let her do what she wanted. He’d take her to do something touristy and fun in Wakanda to make it up to her, he decided.

At least he was finally losing the instinct to confide in Cait, and managed not to blab pointlessly about what had just happened. There should be a How To Talk To Your Pre-Teen About HYDRA pamphlet, but no such luck. He decided there wasn’t really anything to tell, anyway. Nothing had happened. He didn’t want to remind her that he had been tortured - if he had known then what he knew now, he wouldn’t have said anything in the first place, and he could just be the neighborhood weirdo instead of the guy fighting a massive dose of trauma. It was too late for that. But there was no point kicking up more fuss about it. It was over and done with. Probably.


***


The Quinjet was unlike any airplane Marshal had ever flown on; it was more like a cushy office suite than an aircraft. He could get used to this, he thought.

At one point, Jameson excused himself to make a video call.

“Thanks for squeezing me into your schedule, Doc.”

Jameson had scheduled an extra therapy session, which Doctor Laurel had been kind enough to agree to do remotely. They both knew that the superhero worked hard to maintain his emotional health; he refused to be like his father.

“You’re welcome, Jameson. Is everything okay? How is it going with Marshal? I know this has been an adjustment for you.”

“Going well. Things with Marshal are good. He’s not the issue. It’s me. I just have so much… so much anger. About what they did to him. I found out some of it, and he told me some more, and… it’s awful, Doc. It’s not that I think anger is unjustified here, mind you. They tortured and abused him. They violated him mentally and physically. And then we found another guy last night - also tortured, also brainwashed. He didn’t even know his own name. The things these people did to them both were monstrous. Then HYDRA - the people who hurt Marshal - someone from there called me today. Tried to get me to give him back. Doc, they tried to take my brother! And it’s normal to get angry about stuff like that. It would be unhealthy not to be angry, I think - it would mean I didn’t care enough. But I can’t let it get the better of me. I can’t get overwhelmed by it. The most important thing is taking care of them. Helping them heal. I can’t do that if I’m stuck in my own feelings. And with my work - I still have to be able to be fair. I still have to have compassion. I still have to keep seeing people as human beings, even if what they do is horrific. Is that… something we can talk about?”

“Yes. Of course. I’m glad you said something about this. Let’s dig into it.”


***


The flight to Wakanda was uneventful.

Wakanda was - in Marshal’s opinion - incredibly cool. He’d never really traveled recreationally, only with the army (which hadn’t been to particularly interesting places) or as a HYDRA asset (to places that were probably interesting, but he hadn’t really experienced as such under the circumstances.) Despite what brought him here, he couldn’t help drawing in an excited breath when he got his first glimpse of Birnin Zana - The Golden City. It was beautiful. The architecture was like nothing he had ever seen before. Everywhere he looked, there was color and activity and life. “Wow,” was all he managed to say, rather ineloquently.

They were shown to pleasant and comfortable lodgings - a three bedroom suite with attached living and dining areas. Jameson and Maureen would share a bedroom and Marshal would bunk with Aidan, leaving the last room for Cait. There was even, to Marshal’s relief, a small washing machine and dryer.

At one point as they were settling in, Marshal noticed Aidan staring at Jameson, and pulled him aside and said quietly, “Jameson doesn't hit us. Just so you know. You don’t have to keep watching his hands all the time. Oh, and he'll give you a hug if you want one.” Aidan looked skeptical, but accepted this with a nod.

Shortly after their arrival and some time to get situated, they were served a traditional Wakandan meal. They had eaten on the plane, but even so, the delicious aroma of the spices made Marshal’s mouth water. They started to take their seats at the table…

…And Jameson noticed Aidan holding back. “Come sit with us!” Jameson said with a smile.

Aidan looked uncomfortable. “I… wouldn't know what to talk about. I don't know what to say anymore.”

“That's okay,” Jameson said. “You don't have to talk if you don't want to. But we'd really like you to sit with us anyway.”

He did. And the meal was amazing. Marshal tried to focus on that, not what was coming.

First thing in the morning, though, it was time for the real purpose of their trip.


***


Marshal was terrified. He wanted this. He wanted so badly to be free. But once he was in the medical facility, he flinched every time someone approached, and tensed up at every touch.

It wasn’t as bad as he had anticipated, though. Not by a longshot. As promised, Jameson held his hand as much as possible, and hovered nearby when both of Marshal’s hands were needed for tests or scans. No one touched Marshal without his permission, and they always warned him first. He wasn’t restrained, and such a thing wasn’t even suggested or hinted at. They explained what they were doing. Some things were uncomfortable, but nothing really hurt. That was certainly a change from HYDRA.

So was the fact that they left his hospital gown in place as much as possible. Marshal wasn’t used to such consideration. For HYDRA, he was public property. He was used to being looked at so often - not even with lust, but with the dispassionate gaze you would reserve for an object. He was used to his bare flesh being subjected to the same analytical eye as any other weapon, as if his body was no more than a gun or a bomb.

He was never going to enjoy visits to the doctor. But this was… better. A lot better. And when he needed to, he could squeeze Jameson’s hand as tightly as he wanted.

He was doing just that - squeezing Jameson’s hand - as Shuri gave him the final result.

“We can help you, Marshal. But we do have a problem to overcome. The serum you’ve been injected with has affected all of your organ systems. It’s going to be a race against time to reverse all the damage. I’m afraid the only way to buy that time is to put you in cryogenic suspension - temporarily, of course.”

Marshal’s breath grew ragged and all his muscles tensed. They were going to put him into cryo again?

…The cold, so cold, all the warmth draining out of his body, how it ached, his veins slowly freezing, brain darkening as he instinctively fought for consciousness…

…He would be alone. Vulnerable. Completely unable to defend himself. What if someone woke him and did things to him? No one would ever know…

…What if his family was gone when he woke up? What if he never saw them again? What if he was surrounded by HYDRA faces when he opened his eyes? It could all start happening again…

He shook his head, trying to clear it, forcing down the fears and the panic. Trying to ignore the screaming phantom sensations in his body. Staying rational.

I have to do this. I have to. It’s the only way I stay alive. I want to stay alive. I want to stay alive. I want to…

“I can do it,” Marshal said. He wished his voice sounded more confident to match the words. “I can. I can do this.” Trying to add a little levity, he added, “And hey, you’ll all get a break from me for awhile.”

Jameson did not seem amused by that. “I don’t want a break from you.” He turned to Shuri. “Please, is there anything else we can do? Anything I can do? Anything I can give? Blood, maybe? Or plasma? Bone marrow? Stem cells? Anything…?”

Shuri regarded Jameson sympathetically. They both knew none of his ideas were going to work. They both knew why he was offering so desperately anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “This is difficult. But it will be worth it when Marshal is well again. We just… need more time. I don’t know how else to buy it.”

Jameson’s brow remained deeply creased with frown lines. “If that’s the only way. I’m sorry, Marshal. I’ll stay with you the entire time–”

Shuri shook her head and said gently, “Jameson, it could be months. Or longer.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll stay with you. The entire time.”

“Thanks,” Marshal said. He knew ‘thanks’ wasn’t enough. But he didn’t know what else to say. “I’d better tell Cait.”


***


Marshal made sure he had a smile on his face when he approached her. No need to worry her. Careful not to make her sad.

“So it was basically good news,” he told her. “They think they can help me. That’s the biggest thing. The thing we should focus on. But there’s a little… uh… snag. I’m pretty bad off medically, it turns out. I wouldn’t have enough time left for everything they have to do. So they’re going to freeze me for awhile. It’s fine; I’ve been frozen before. No big deal. It’ll basically just be like I’m asleep. I’ll be back before you know it. Can you check on Fievel while I’m gone? I’m not sure how long it’ll be. But it’ll give me the time I need. Then we’ll do the fun stuff I promised, okay?”

Aidan, Maureen Finnegan, and Jameson Bryant

While Marshal was at his medical appointments, Aidan spent the day sketching and watercolor painting, while Maureen kept him company. Aidan showed a great deal of interest in the balcony, and eventually moved his artistic base of operations out there so he could look down on the street below, but he didn't show any inclination to venture beyond their suite. At least not without other meta-humans who could watch his back. Maureen was relieved about that, because she would have had no way to keep him safe out there, and it would have been so easy to lose him in the crowd - an outcome that fortunately he too seemed to want to avoid.

Aidan did a few sketches of Maureen, which he presented to her as a gift when he was done.

"Thank you!" she said. "These are beautiful."

Aidan's only response was a small smile, but he was pleased.

While Marshal talked to Cait about his test results, Jameson needed to have a conversation with Maureen too. He was confident he had made the right choice... but that didn't necessarily mean it was an easy one.

"...So he's going to have to stay here in cryo for awhile," Jameson concluded. "They aren't sure how long. And..." He trailed off.

Maureen nodded. "Okay. I assume you're staying with him?"

"Yeah. I'm staying. You're... not mad?"

"Of course not. You need to do this. And I need to go back. I wish I could stay too, but I can't leave the rescue for that long. Cait can come back with me; I'm sure her family wouldn't be okay with her just staying away indefinitely. But we should see if Aidan is willing to stay with you. There wouldn't be much I could do against Thompson if he came back. Make me a list of anything you need from home, and I'll mail them to you."

"I'm sorry, Maureen. I wish there was another way. I'm gonna miss you so much. My heart is really torn in two here. I wish I could be two places at once."

"I know. But you can't. And this is the right choice. Obviously I want you with me, but he's the one who needs you there. Need wins out. You love us both. I know that. I have a support system, though. I have my family and friends. And he has... well, he has you. I don't want him to be alone here."

"This wasn't how I wanted things to go."

It wasn't how he had imagined the next few months. He had thought he would be ring shopping, getting down on one knee, planning a wedding...

"I know. But we'll talk every day. I'll visit as often as I can. We'll make it work."

He hugged her tightly, then gave her a long, lingering kiss. "I love you. So much."

Maybe it was going to have to wait longer than he had planned. But this was definitely the woman he wanted to marry.

Jameson Bryant

Jameson’s phone rang. It was Maria Hill again - presumably to update him about the situation at the airstrip. It seemed he was correct.

“We arrested the HYDRA operatives who showed up. They’re cooling their heels in a cell, but no one is talking so far. I don’t want to get too complacent, though - I guarantee there’s more where that came from.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Jameson agreed. “Thanks for saving the day for us. Again.”

“You’re welcome. There’s something else. Unrelated. I had some downtime so I looked into what I could find out about your guy. Aidan. I figured there couldn’t be that many missing artists fitting his description. I found something. A missing poster that’s definitely him. I’ll dig up more, but it’s a start. I’ll email it to you.”

Jameson was starting to wonder exactly how he was going to repay her for all of this.


***


“Deputy Director Hill found something,” Jameson told Aidan. They were out on the balcony; it really was a great view. “A missing poster. She’s still looking. There have to be more records. But here’s what we know so far. Your full name is Aidan Som Phon Millican. You were living in Portland. You’re twenty-three years old. Your birthday is May 5th. And whoever you're friends with back in Portland, they cared enough about you that they reported you missing and put up posters for you, so you definitely made a difference and mattered to people.”

“Thanks,” Aidan said softly. “Can you tell her thanks?”

With each piece, it was coming back. With each piece, he was becoming himself again. A changed version of himself, of course. Just as he would always bear the rune scars on his arms and back, he would have unseen scars on his psyche too. But he could live with that. His self was coming back, and that was enough.

Cait McIvor

Perhaps she shouldn't have come along. It was clear that she was the odd man out - she wasn't a super soldier in need of a reset, nor the superhero fronting the mission, nor was she really Marshal's family. She could feel the discomfort with her presence, the lingering question of why she would ask to go, but discomfort hadn't stopped her before and it certainly wouldn't stop her now. She wondered if she was being selfish. As she gazed out the window of the Quinjet at the endless sea of clouds, she ruminated on her motivations for inserting herself on this particular journey. The list was short: because Marshal was her friend and she wanted to look out for him. Jameson was a good guy, but she worried that maybe he was just a little too good. No, Marshal needed someone like her around to think just that little bit worse of people - just in case.

And then there was that fellow Aidan. He still watched her, though not with the same single-minded intensity as before, and Cait considered the idea that having Aidan's attentions divided could be a very good thing for him right now. Distraction was a marvellous thing and hopefully it would help him shake the doctor's hold on him just that little bit more. She felt for the man. She had recognized some of the runes from Ewan's drawings and had felt a deep sorrow for him. The pain of having self ripped away was tortuous. Something with which she unfortunately had some personal experience.

~~~~~

The arrival in the great capital city of the mysterious Wakanda. One look at the streets - at the technological marvels soaring the skies - the people peaceful below - and she knew why it was so hard to get in. This place was not like the rest of the world. If she had to make a comparison, she supposed Atlantis in her home dimension could be its counterpart. She suddenly had a lot more hope for Marshal's future. If their city looked like this - surely they could do what they said they could.

Was that it? Was that the real reason she'd insisted on coming along? To somehow alleviate the deep worry she had that the promise had been a lie? What would she have done - or what would she do - if they couldn't help? Cait didn't want to answer that question in advance. It was better to focus on the present.

Focusing on what was in front of her was easy enough to do with so much to look at. She wished she had more of a chance to see it before they were ushered off to their rooms, but then again, they weren't there to sight-see. This trip was about Marshal and Cait wasn't going to do anything to mess that up for him. She had seen the guards watching their group. She avoided making eye contact with the ones who were making an effort to be discreet. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to suspect that she might be a threat. She wasn't, of course, so long as things went well for the man she was becoming a little too attached to.

The first thing Cait did when she entered their home away from home was take off her shoes. She wanted to feel the ground under her and it somehow felt wrong to have a barrier between her and it. It was kind of them to give her a room. It made her feel like she was expected, though she knew the third room had probably been intended for Aidan. He could have it, for all it mattered. As much as she had gotten used to sleeping in a bed as of late, she certainly didn't require one. Privacy, too, was something she had learned to live without. And yet here it was, offered to her as though it were the basest of human requirements. Cait wouldn't complain.

The first scent of the food coming down the hall brought a smile to her face. Her time living in Morocco had been challenging. She had grown up the poorest of the poor, stealing food from vendors in the grand bazaar, facing beatings from her fellow street kids and the city guards. Then she'd escaped the city with a Bedouin tribe and had lived in the Atlas mountains like a wild goat...among other things. It hadn't been her favourite century. Except for one thing - the food. The rich spices of the region paired with meat and sweet dried fruit - she hadn't experienced anything like it. But now, those familiar spices - with a few new friends - assailed her senses and she found herself viewing the past with some inconceivable amount of fondness. She had gone to the table when the food arrived, murmured a traditional blessing (though likely not of any tribe living in Wakanda) and promptly dug into the meal with her hands.

~~~~~

Cait had tried to stay in the rooms provided while waiting for the Wakandan doctors to finish their assessment of Marshal. She had inspected the tile work, the tapestries, the joinery on the tables...and had migrated out onto the balcony with Aidan. He was immersed in painting everything he could lay his eyes on and she sat and watched him for awhile, his sure, even brush strokes soothing to her anxious heart.

Her feet swung in the air as she sat on the balcony railing, continually tempted to jump down and walk through the streets. If it had just been her, she would have, but what if the Wakandans took her wandering as a threat? An attempt explore an area other than the area they'd been politely, but insistently, placed could easily be misconstrued as an offence. She could be wrong, but she had a feeling that secret cities probably had things they wanted to keep secret - even from guests.

And so it was no small amount of relief when Marshal and Jameson returned. She had spotted them as they moved from the transport to the doorway of their 'hotel' and had happily gone inside to greet them. Marshal looked...worried. He was smiling, sure, but he almost looked more nervous than he had when he'd left in the morning. Something was wrong, but not so wrong as to send her on the rampage. Jameson had seemed fairly relaxed when he'd arrived and surely if they'd refused to treat Marshal, he would have been upset. No, what was bothering Marshal was personal.

And there it was. The timbre of his voice when he talked about being frozen. Cryo? Why would they need to use cryo to help Marshal? Cait decided that she should ask him. His response was something along the lines of them needing more time to be able to heal the damage to his body. More time. Time.

Cait didn't say anything after she asked her question, but stared at the ground with a strange unfocused gaze, almost like she'd forgotten he was there. Just as abruptly, she looked back up at Marshal, the crooked grin on her face and a calculating look in her eye.

"So if time is all you need...do you think I could talk to your doctor? Time is something I kinda have a lot of, as you might recall." Her eyes wandered over to one of the tapestries on the wall depicting some sort of jaguar man and flowers. Maybe. Just maybe.

"I have a feeling that this place with all this technology might also understand a bit about magic. And with any lucky, have a yellow diamond lying around. Marshal, it's just an idea, but I think I'd like to discuss it with the sciencey people here to see if we can turn this idea into a plan." She looked up at him and added, "If that's okay with you. I don't wanna push my way into your treatment, but I think I really can help."