[ A swell of conflicting emotions rises, with guilt and relief chief among them. You're not that other one, offered so quickly, even with the barest explanation of the truth. It's not so different from what was said to him in the moment, You're not this man.
But it'd been easy enough to prove them wrong, with the swivel of his revolver and a cold click. He huffs a breath of air, humourless. ]
Pretends he doesn't get the multiverse, then reels off three theoretical case studies.
[ He reaches out to grasp Cain's shoulder, a light shake. Fitz attempts to catch his eye this time. ]
I appreciate that, more than I — I can say.
[ Never quite has the words for such things, even though he thinks of Cain following him on a ruined planet or protecting him on Mars, too. ]
But it matters 'cause it wasn't some other Fitz. [ pressing a hand to his chest, curling into his dirtied shirt. ] It was me. [ A quick nod, more to himself. He lived that timeline, his every deed propelling it onward and bringing it crashing into the world he calls home. ] It still is me, and if I don't own that, if I don't do better — then I'm not doing myself or anyone hurt by me, then and now, justice. [ firmer. ] And I'm certainly not the man my partner deserves.
[ More than anything, he has to be able to look her in the eye, when they meet again. ]
[Attention caught, he maintains the eye contact, Fitz's sincerity translating clear as daylight. Afterward it has Cain's gaze tilting down out of conscious self-awareness. Neither are quite practiced at this, it would seem. Yet so much of what Fitz says connects with him, even if the stories are different, even if what Fitz describes is perhaps far worse than his own experience with crime and prison. He still thinks he can understand.]
Okay. Then do better here.
[He already knows that, Cain reasons, but that doesn't stop him from saying it.]
Jemma, she's your partner, right? You'll get to see her again. And then you'll get to tell her about all the cool shit you did here to help people. [His attention's superficially back on the bike, so he can reel off these sentimental things while pretending like it's no big deal.] With Morningstar, with Peggy, and everyone else. Me. I'm reading fuckin' textbooks because of you, asshole.
[ Maybe he does understand, with how he volleys back what Fitz knows needs to be done. It's good to hear (to hope he might be held accountable, if he should slip). Fitz hasn't forgotten all Cain has told him (or what he saw in the dreams). Dropping out, living on some sort of compound, being made a fighter.
Cain manages to push that from his mind for a few moments more with his disarming sincerity. A tightness in his chest, first, at the reassurance he'll see Jemma again. Sometimes, he thinks that has to be true — that he has time, even though it aches to be apart. (And some nights, he thinks they've been separated intentionally by curse or by fate, protecting her from what he might be). What Cain offers him is something he desperately wants to be true, despite how he won't allow himself to believe it just yet.
Any reply is caught in his throat, gaze fixed on Cain, even as he looks away. 'Cause he never sees himself the way others do, but if he looks at them long enough he might catch a glimpse, yeah? It's only when Cain gets to the bit about himself that Fitz's mouth curves, helpless to do anything but brighten. ]
Shut up. [ he slings an arm around Cain's shoulders, but it's more of jostle than a proper hug, just begging to be amicably shoved aside, though he'd gladly settle into the proximity. His gesture bleeds warmth and appreciation through the bond, the feeling of being knocked off-kilter and moved by another, impossibly fond. More than he can say, indeed. ]
Which ones? Are they any good? [ quickly, deferring his thank you for a spot of levity. ] Been after some light reading after slogging my way through a load of tosh on dream theory.
[ this is not 100% a joke... he really does wanna know what Cain's reading... ]
[At the arm slung around his shoulder, Cain feels heat rise in his face as a product of the vulnerable sentiment he's shared and the ease of physical proximity. The gratitude radiates from Fitz's end of the empathy bond and in return Cain channels in-kind fondness, if a bit gruff and reluctant to show it. Shared emotions speak for themselves.
Of course, he does inevitably elbow Fitz off with amiable annoyance, sharp side smile belying the playful shove back. That's just how he is.]
You think textbooks are light reading? Wow. As if you couldn't scream "huge nerd" any more than you already do.
[Brushing off his hands, Cain rises to his feet. There's some reluctance to share if only because all the titles will reveal the level of his knowledge, i.e. extremely beginner. Most follow remedial math class outlines.]
By the way, wanna ask you about something. Not about textbooks, though. Before you get your hopes up.
[ By the time he’s elbowed in the side, a laugh has replaced the lump in his throat. It might surprise others who know him for his sincerity, but he takes comfort in the quick shift to teasing and normalcy. He lets himself sit back on his hands and watch Cain again, just for a minute. What’s the point in being clever, if he can’t commit moments like this to razor-sharp memory? ‘Course he wants to help Cain in every way he can, whether that’s helping explain concepts or standing back, as he does now.
Up on his feet, then, attention on the bike for final checks. ]
Oh, they’re already dashed. [ tossed over his shoulder without a hint of dourness. ] Go on then.
[Given the space now to talk, Cain crosses the small garage and finds a bench to rest his weight down onto, eyes following Fitz as he goes through the motions of assessment. The bike is good-looking, he realizes now with some distance from it — sleek and shiny and likely to tear up the road (metaphorically speaking) at fast speeds. He can see the outlines of their reflections in the glossy side, a blur of darker color.]
So, something weird happened... after we got back from New Tokyo.
[The placement of we in this sentence stands in for him and Abel, although he won't say straight out. Fitz can likely connect from context clues.]
Finally got rid of Hideki, went back to my place, dropped off our shit, and uh. I think Giovanni's gone, didn't see him the whole time we were there, and his room was dark. [Cain's mouth presses in a line.] Can't remember, did you know him? Kind of a psycho.
[But not bad, and he knew how to handle a person like that most of the time. Giovanni did well with a firm hand. He feels guilty for being grateful Abel won't have to tangle too much with him, concern bred mostly from his own intense desire to protect Abel from people who are far rougher around the edges than Cain himself.]
Anyway, most of his plants were dead... he had a bunch of 'em on shelves and a couple tables. Went over to look, and it was like I could feel them. All I did was touch, but— [He glances furtively toward Fitz, then away.] They grew back? Totally alive again. Not withered, or dry, or whatever. I have no idea what the fuck I did. Still haven't tried again, freaked me out. [Sharing now is a testament of his trust in Fitz.]
[ The engine revs, low but still audible. He stops short of testing the hover-mechanism to glance over his shoulder at Cain. ]
Odd duck. [ Giovanni, that is. Unfortunate to lose anyone, of course, when they've no idea where the Displaced go (if they go anywhere at all). Though Fitz can't imagine him doing well with a kindhearted lad like Abel, so perhaps it's for the best. He sets about tidying up his tools, then, with a hum of acknowledgement and another look, when he starts talking about feeling the plants.
With a hand towel over his shoulder and wee box of materials, he walks nearer to Cain, setting the contents down on a nearby worktable and smoothing his hands over the surface. A neural command ups the volume on the radio (better to be safe, in matters involving Cain). ]
It's certainly unusual [ unprecedented, too, but he deigns to keep that thought to himself. Even as he speaks, he's running through his mental list of every ability among the Displaced, of the Inhumans in his main reality and every superhuman who signed the Sokovia Accords, too. Multiple abilities tend to be complementary, as in the case of Spider-Man or even Captain America. They don't have any powers as unrelated as spatial displacement and... plant growth on record. And any evolution in their abilities has been linear, as with Markus' shields or his own portals changing in size. ] But so are all our abilities.
[ He'll never forget Daisy's first day after activating her powers, hands and earth both shaking. The move is to reassure Cain, first, despite his own uncertainty. ]
And this has never happened before? [ measured, with a rap of his knuckles on the metal surface. After New Tokyo places a change in Cain alongside the shifts in the wider ecosystem of this world. He looks back to Cain, concern flickering in his eyes and the crease of his brow. ] Was there any knockback on you? [ He's intimately familiar with an ability that needed to take life to give it, and most things have a cost. ] Tiredness, weakness, et cetera? What about the glow?
[His own thoughts follow a similar channel, but without the broader scope of Fitz's experience in superpowers or knowledge of the Displaced at large. It hasn't been a priority up to this point to keep track of who can do what. Often, he stumbles across discovery out of necessity, as in the heat of battle, or through sheer luck of accident. Or he's simply been told. The gift of the first power, his ability to shift objects (extended even to himself only in that realm of dreams), has always sat awkward with Cain. He's never had anything like this before. Never seen anything like it except in the otherworldly technology of a whole separate intergalactic species, and to possess something so similar now has always made him uncomfortable.
As the weeks pass, he's accustomed. He's gotten stronger, too. Perhaps that's inevitable. This place wanted them to be able to do what they now can do for a reason. Or is it random, and this appearance of a second ability just a fluke?
Cain forces his attention to the narrow point of those questions. Trusts Fitz, more than anyone, to help him puzzle this out.]
No, never. Not till now. No kickback far as I know, uh... I was pretty tired already when it happened. Maybe there was something small and I just didn't notice. [It will require attempting again, he knows, but he's hesitant. Without guidance, without reassurance — it'll be the disorienting frustration of his first ability all over again. He wonders when it's supposed to get easier.]
Glow was there, [a sharp nod.] Felt almost exactly like my usual power. But still weird and different, I mean. Obviously. The spatial thing? Makes sense for me. But plants? No clue, nothing grows on Mars.
[ Fitz turns, leaning back against the worktable to better regard Cain, though it’s an intentionally casual scrutiny — dialling back his characteristically. too intense focused, arms crossed. ]
No, trust your instincts.
[ what Cain thinks, felt, saw. For his part, Fitz waits to suggest a repeat experiment. A few considerations float to the top of his mind. As they do, he speaks neutrally. ]
An old friend thought powers weren’t random — but not in the way that many of our own theorise the power matches the person. [ shaking his head (and ignoring the way the memory makes his chest tighten) ] He always said they filled evolutionary needs. [ followed up with a quick explanation: ] Balancing or counteracting something else in the universe, in this case. [ a shrug of shoulders, as if to suggest he doesn’t know if he believes it, even now. ] Could be tied to the lack of growth on Mars, if we follow his thinking.
[ We, always. ‘Course that’s a little too neat for a guy like Fitz, who believes the universe is cosmos and chaos both. A beat of hesitation, where bites the inside of his cheek. Has to decide whether keeping his thoughts inside his head would spare Cain or help him. ]
Or... could be related to something that happened in the dreams, given the timing. [ motioning between them ] Why should the world alone change, when we were at the heart of the alteration process?
[ but change in yourself is far more frightening, he thinks, gaze locked on Cain. ]
[Trust your instincts. If only Fitz knew how meaningful a statement that was to give, and how it soothes some of the disquiet that's built in him since the discovery of the power. His instincts and his gut are all he's had, most of his life, no fancy powers to grasp and alter the world around him. Only his own two fists. In some aspects, it had seemed to be the only way to impact his reality, his life, and so he'd relied on it.
Now, he's less sure, but he listens to Fitz and follows that line of thought with interest. He thinks of Mars because it was where he'd last seen plantlife in abundance, and the picture of nature had left a lasting impression on him. A sea of blue in a desert. A cold wasteland suddenly breathing, living. If it has anything to do with what happened in the dreams...]
What about you and Markus? You guys didn't notice anything after? Besides all the other shit that got changed when we woke up, I guess.
[The alteration process, Fitz calls it. Terrifying and fitting. Cain still can't accept it's him alone. It should be one of them instead, experienced leaders, smarter and more rational.]
I know I should... probably practice it again. If I do, would you... wanna be there? Might help if I had somebody who knew what was going on. Or could take notes, record it, whatever. [Nerdy scientist behaviors.]
Not that I've seen, I'm afraid, and we kept close to each other in New Tokyo, so.
[ One of them ought to have noticed, right? He makes a mental note to ask all the same.
Any other follow-ups derail at the request: There's a glitch in his systems, and he stills. In all his time here, Fitz has avoided researching or analysing their powers. The last time he'd chipped in on the network, Daisy had swiftly reminded him how he'd forfeited his right to toy with that particular puzzle. A lifetime of expertise in the area, picking apart inhuman abilities and their carriers means his knowledge is tainted. Shouldn't be talking about his old friend, shouldn't be participating in any studies.
Only if Fitz means to make up for how he knows these things, he ought to apply the knowledge to help others, right? His fingers dig into the crooks of his elbows. Control can sometimes be an illusion, and he's only just wrested it back — risky, to put himself in the role of the scientist again. He might have said no to someone else. Hell, he has before, directing them to Daisy instead. ]
Of course. [ clicked back into the moment, after losing himself in thought momentarily. ] Sorry, already thinking — [ a two-fingered rolling gesture at his head. ] Jemma always says a second pair of eyes changes everything. [ then, simply. ] We'll figure it out.
[Visible relief settles over Cain, ignorant as he is toward any inner turmoil at the request. He doesn't know who else he would trust otherwise. Fitz has the advantage of experience in New Amsterdam, having been here longer than Cain himself, so in his own view it makes sense even beyond their friendship. Grasping the nature of this power feels like more of a challenge than the straightforward gift of spatial displacement — he's seen that, he understands it better now. Plants, giving life? A whole other alien realm to him.
That, and it feels important to document in some way.]
Thanks. I mean it.
[Best to make that as clear as he can. Fitz doesn't have to help him; every effort is noticed. Cain may be bad at expressing his gratitude most days, but he'll try for this.]
Oh, and... [Full of things to say today. Cain turns his gaze ahead, posture a touch more reserved.] If you want to — you can call me by my real name, Alexei. You heard it in the dreams, I think. [He rolls shoulders in a tight shrug.] I'm getting used to hearing it again. Just, uh, as long as it's only between the two of us.
[ So much to say today, with shifts him his posture that Fitz can’t help but observe and catalog, until he realises what Cain is telling him. It’s a stark reminder of just how special this young man is, even if he doesn’t see it himself. Alexei sounds like trust and closeness. And with Cain looking to him for something like guidance (swotting up on maths, asking for his help, hearing Fitz out after all he saw), it threatens to leave him scrabbling for purchase. He doesn’t even know if his team would put the same faith in him any longer.
Don’t disappoint him, turbo. Normally, he tips his chin back just so to look Cain in the eye, but sat there now, this marks a new vantage point. Almost seems younger, despite the two names and all the trouble in his life. For his part, the tension in Fitz’s frame dissipates, expression softening. ]
All you have to do is ask. [ about this, about his powers, about anything. The question for Fitz has always been, What wouldn’t you do? Very little, as it happens. ] Just us two, Alexei.
[ agreed warmly, with a faint quirk of his mouth. Fitz crosses over, quick to close the gap in what he says and what he means with a touch, as ever. Not quite ruffling Cain’s hair this time, but carding his fingers back through it — a single pass through that sparks up with affection before Fitz drops both hands to his knees, bent enough to be eye level with Cain.
His features scrunch. ]
But you did promise to help me test-drive first, so...
[ a jerk of his head at the bike, eyes bright. Give your heart a break, kid. ]
[The touch is almost a shock, snapping him out of the trance of a focused state with that vulnerability raw in his mind. It's not an easy thing for him to ask, any of this, in range for help with a newly manifested power to the usage of his birth name, yet Fitz accepts all of it in stride. That quick flare of empathy between them is enough to root him back into himself, and where typically his pattern of behavior has turned toward a lash back to sharpness and rough exteriors, this time he cools in another direction.
It helps that Fitz changes the subject. Calls him by his name, yes, but he'll let it slide. It feels good to hear Alexei again. Like a call from a friend, rather than another soldier in this war. Not so anonymous anymore.
Still, Cain's face is a little hot after his hair is feathered back, and he scrubs his face before whipping to face back toward the bike.]
Oh, yeah. [He did, didn't he? Nearly forgotten that was the purpose behind the visit.] Where am I allowed to take it? Out on the street? Gonna be different from driving over the snow, huh.
[Crossing the garage, he smooths one hand over the bike's side plating in appreciation for the sleek design.]
[ Different, that Fitz isn't shoved aside roughly or playfully — but then this is the first time he's seeing Alexei instead of just Cain, isn't it? His smile widens at Cain's reaction and rapid shift in gears. Fitz follows after at his own pace, picking up a helmet from the side of the garage. ]
[ mildly, ] Out and above the street, ideally.
[ Teasin'. then, once he stands beside Cain.]
I'll monitor the acceleration and other stats from here, [ tapping his head. via the implant, he means. ] but I need you get as high as you can and go as fast as you can. Avoid the traffic monitors pinging on the nav while doing so, [ both the visor of the helmet and centre console screen light up with a map, different versions of the same space, designed to guide the driver. ] or I'll get saddled with the fine. Watch for the warning light — and bring it back, if you see it blink. Red means dead. [ a rap of his knuckles against the central display, where a green light shines. ] Check the maneuverability at high speeds. When you're done, tell me, and I'll test the remote drive. See if I can get it back without you having to do anything. [ handy, for when an agent inevitably goes down or abandons the tech he worked very hard to make nice, thanks. ]
Do try and bring it back in one piece. [ quipped as he extends his hand, helmet hooked on his fingertips. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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But it'd been easy enough to prove them wrong, with the swivel of his revolver and a cold click. He huffs a breath of air, humourless. ]
Pretends he doesn't get the multiverse, then reels off three theoretical case studies.
[ He reaches out to grasp Cain's shoulder, a light shake. Fitz attempts to catch his eye this time. ]
I appreciate that, more than I — I can say.
[ Never quite has the words for such things, even though he thinks of Cain following him on a ruined planet or protecting him on Mars, too. ]
But it matters 'cause it wasn't some other Fitz. [ pressing a hand to his chest, curling into his dirtied shirt. ] It was me. [ A quick nod, more to himself. He lived that timeline, his every deed propelling it onward and bringing it crashing into the world he calls home. ] It still is me, and if I don't own that, if I don't do better — then I'm not doing myself or anyone hurt by me, then and now, justice. [ firmer. ] And I'm certainly not the man my partner deserves.
[ More than anything, he has to be able to look her in the eye, when they meet again. ]
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Okay. Then do better here.
[He already knows that, Cain reasons, but that doesn't stop him from saying it.]
Jemma, she's your partner, right? You'll get to see her again. And then you'll get to tell her about all the cool shit you did here to help people. [His attention's superficially back on the bike, so he can reel off these sentimental things while pretending like it's no big deal.] With Morningstar, with Peggy, and everyone else. Me. I'm reading fuckin' textbooks because of you, asshole.
[Let him live this humiliation down.]
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Cain manages to push that from his mind for a few moments more with his disarming sincerity. A tightness in his chest, first, at the reassurance he'll see Jemma again. Sometimes, he thinks that has to be true — that he has time, even though it aches to be apart. (And some nights, he thinks they've been separated intentionally by curse or by fate, protecting her from what he might be). What Cain offers him is something he desperately wants to be true, despite how he won't allow himself to believe it just yet.
Any reply is caught in his throat, gaze fixed on Cain, even as he looks away. 'Cause he never sees himself the way others do, but if he looks at them long enough he might catch a glimpse, yeah? It's only when Cain gets to the bit about himself that Fitz's mouth curves, helpless to do anything but brighten. ]
Shut up. [ he slings an arm around Cain's shoulders, but it's more of jostle than a proper hug, just begging to be amicably shoved aside, though he'd gladly settle into the proximity. His gesture bleeds warmth and appreciation through the bond, the feeling of being knocked off-kilter and moved by another, impossibly fond. More than he can say, indeed. ]
Which ones? Are they any good? [ quickly, deferring his thank you for a spot of levity. ] Been after some light reading after slogging my way through a load of tosh on dream theory.
[ this is not 100% a joke... he really does wanna know what Cain's reading... ]
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Of course, he does inevitably elbow Fitz off with amiable annoyance, sharp side smile belying the playful shove back. That's just how he is.]
You think textbooks are light reading? Wow. As if you couldn't scream "huge nerd" any more than you already do.
[Brushing off his hands, Cain rises to his feet. There's some reluctance to share if only because all the titles will reveal the level of his knowledge, i.e. extremely beginner. Most follow remedial math class outlines.]
By the way, wanna ask you about something. Not about textbooks, though. Before you get your hopes up.
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Up on his feet, then, attention on the bike for final checks. ]
Oh, they’re already dashed. [ tossed over his shoulder without a hint of dourness. ] Go on then.
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So, something weird happened... after we got back from New Tokyo.
[The placement of we in this sentence stands in for him and Abel, although he won't say straight out. Fitz can likely connect from context clues.]
Finally got rid of Hideki, went back to my place, dropped off our shit, and uh. I think Giovanni's gone, didn't see him the whole time we were there, and his room was dark. [Cain's mouth presses in a line.] Can't remember, did you know him? Kind of a psycho.
[But not bad, and he knew how to handle a person like that most of the time. Giovanni did well with a firm hand. He feels guilty for being grateful Abel won't have to tangle too much with him, concern bred mostly from his own intense desire to protect Abel from people who are far rougher around the edges than Cain himself.]
Anyway, most of his plants were dead... he had a bunch of 'em on shelves and a couple tables. Went over to look, and it was like I could feel them. All I did was touch, but— [He glances furtively toward Fitz, then away.] They grew back? Totally alive again. Not withered, or dry, or whatever. I have no idea what the fuck I did. Still haven't tried again, freaked me out. [Sharing now is a testament of his trust in Fitz.]
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Odd duck. [ Giovanni, that is. Unfortunate to lose anyone, of course, when they've no idea where the Displaced go (if they go anywhere at all). Though Fitz can't imagine him doing well with a kindhearted lad like Abel, so perhaps it's for the best. He sets about tidying up his tools, then, with a hum of acknowledgement and another look, when he starts talking about feeling the plants.
With a hand towel over his shoulder and wee box of materials, he walks nearer to Cain, setting the contents down on a nearby worktable and smoothing his hands over the surface. A neural command ups the volume on the radio (better to be safe, in matters involving Cain). ]
It's certainly unusual [ unprecedented, too, but he deigns to keep that thought to himself. Even as he speaks, he's running through his mental list of every ability among the Displaced, of the Inhumans in his main reality and every superhuman who signed the Sokovia Accords, too. Multiple abilities tend to be complementary, as in the case of Spider-Man or even Captain America. They don't have any powers as unrelated as spatial displacement and... plant growth on record. And any evolution in their abilities has been linear, as with Markus' shields or his own portals changing in size. ] But so are all our abilities.
[ He'll never forget Daisy's first day after activating her powers, hands and earth both shaking. The move is to reassure Cain, first, despite his own uncertainty. ]
And this has never happened before? [ measured, with a rap of his knuckles on the metal surface. After New Tokyo places a change in Cain alongside the shifts in the wider ecosystem of this world. He looks back to Cain, concern flickering in his eyes and the crease of his brow. ] Was there any knockback on you? [ He's intimately familiar with an ability that needed to take life to give it, and most things have a cost. ] Tiredness, weakness, et cetera? What about the glow?
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As the weeks pass, he's accustomed. He's gotten stronger, too. Perhaps that's inevitable. This place wanted them to be able to do what they now can do for a reason. Or is it random, and this appearance of a second ability just a fluke?
Cain forces his attention to the narrow point of those questions. Trusts Fitz, more than anyone, to help him puzzle this out.]
No, never. Not till now. No kickback far as I know, uh... I was pretty tired already when it happened. Maybe there was something small and I just didn't notice. [It will require attempting again, he knows, but he's hesitant. Without guidance, without reassurance — it'll be the disorienting frustration of his first ability all over again. He wonders when it's supposed to get easier.]
Glow was there, [a sharp nod.] Felt almost exactly like my usual power. But still weird and different, I mean. Obviously. The spatial thing? Makes sense for me. But plants? No clue, nothing grows on Mars.
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No, trust your instincts.
[ what Cain thinks, felt, saw. For his part, Fitz waits to suggest a repeat experiment. A few considerations float to the top of his mind. As they do, he speaks neutrally. ]
An old friend thought powers weren’t random — but not in the way that many of our own theorise the power matches the person. [ shaking his head (and ignoring the way the memory makes his chest tighten) ] He always said they filled evolutionary needs. [ followed up with a quick explanation: ] Balancing or counteracting something else in the universe, in this case. [ a shrug of shoulders, as if to suggest he doesn’t know if he believes it, even now. ] Could be tied to the lack of growth on Mars, if we follow his thinking.
[ We, always. ‘Course that’s a little too neat for a guy like Fitz, who believes the universe is cosmos and chaos both. A beat of hesitation, where bites the inside of his cheek. Has to decide whether keeping his thoughts inside his head would spare Cain or help him. ]
Or... could be related to something that happened in the dreams, given the timing. [ motioning between them ] Why should the world alone change, when we were at the heart of the alteration process?
[ but change in yourself is far more frightening, he thinks, gaze locked on Cain. ]
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Now, he's less sure, but he listens to Fitz and follows that line of thought with interest. He thinks of Mars because it was where he'd last seen plantlife in abundance, and the picture of nature had left a lasting impression on him. A sea of blue in a desert. A cold wasteland suddenly breathing, living. If it has anything to do with what happened in the dreams...]
What about you and Markus? You guys didn't notice anything after? Besides all the other shit that got changed when we woke up, I guess.
[The alteration process, Fitz calls it. Terrifying and fitting. Cain still can't accept it's him alone. It should be one of them instead, experienced leaders, smarter and more rational.]
I know I should... probably practice it again. If I do, would you... wanna be there? Might help if I had somebody who knew what was going on. Or could take notes, record it, whatever. [Nerdy scientist behaviors.]
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Not that I've seen, I'm afraid, and we kept close to each other in New Tokyo, so.
[ One of them ought to have noticed, right? He makes a mental note to ask all the same.
Any other follow-ups derail at the request: There's a glitch in his systems, and he stills. In all his time here, Fitz has avoided researching or analysing their powers. The last time he'd chipped in on the network, Daisy had swiftly reminded him how he'd forfeited his right to toy with that particular puzzle. A lifetime of expertise in the area, picking apart inhuman abilities and their carriers means his knowledge is tainted. Shouldn't be talking about his old friend, shouldn't be participating in any studies.
Only if Fitz means to make up for how he knows these things, he ought to apply the knowledge to help others, right? His fingers dig into the crooks of his elbows. Control can sometimes be an illusion, and he's only just wrested it back — risky, to put himself in the role of the scientist again. He might have said no to someone else. Hell, he has before, directing them to Daisy instead. ]
Of course. [ clicked back into the moment, after losing himself in thought momentarily. ] Sorry, already thinking — [ a two-fingered rolling gesture at his head. ] Jemma always says a second pair of eyes changes everything. [ then, simply. ] We'll figure it out.
[ Oh, Fitz. ]
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That, and it feels important to document in some way.]
Thanks. I mean it.
[Best to make that as clear as he can. Fitz doesn't have to help him; every effort is noticed. Cain may be bad at expressing his gratitude most days, but he'll try for this.]
Oh, and... [Full of things to say today. Cain turns his gaze ahead, posture a touch more reserved.] If you want to — you can call me by my real name, Alexei. You heard it in the dreams, I think. [He rolls shoulders in a tight shrug.] I'm getting used to hearing it again. Just, uh, as long as it's only between the two of us.
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Don’t disappoint him, turbo. Normally, he tips his chin back just so to look Cain in the eye, but sat there now, this marks a new vantage point. Almost seems younger, despite the two names and all the trouble in his life. For his part, the tension in Fitz’s frame dissipates, expression softening. ]
All you have to do is ask. [ about this, about his powers, about anything. The question for Fitz has always been, What wouldn’t you do? Very little, as it happens. ] Just us two, Alexei.
[ agreed warmly, with a faint quirk of his mouth. Fitz crosses over, quick to close the gap in what he says and what he means with a touch, as ever. Not quite ruffling Cain’s hair this time, but carding his fingers back through it — a single pass through that sparks up with affection before Fitz drops both hands to his knees, bent enough to be eye level with Cain.
His features scrunch. ]
But you did promise to help me test-drive first, so...
[ a jerk of his head at the bike, eyes bright. Give your heart a break, kid. ]
no subject
It helps that Fitz changes the subject. Calls him by his name, yes, but he'll let it slide. It feels good to hear Alexei again. Like a call from a friend, rather than another soldier in this war. Not so anonymous anymore.
Still, Cain's face is a little hot after his hair is feathered back, and he scrubs his face before whipping to face back toward the bike.]
Oh, yeah. [He did, didn't he? Nearly forgotten that was the purpose behind the visit.] Where am I allowed to take it? Out on the street? Gonna be different from driving over the snow, huh.
[Crossing the garage, he smooths one hand over the bike's side plating in appreciation for the sleek design.]
FIN.
[ mildly, ] Out and above the street, ideally.
[ Teasin'. then, once he stands beside Cain.]
I'll monitor the acceleration and other stats from here, [ tapping his head. via the implant, he means. ] but I need you get as high as you can and go as fast as you can. Avoid the traffic monitors pinging on the nav while doing so, [ both the visor of the helmet and centre console screen light up with a map, different versions of the same space, designed to guide the driver. ] or I'll get saddled with the fine. Watch for the warning light — and bring it back, if you see it blink. Red means dead. [ a rap of his knuckles against the central display, where a green light shines. ] Check the maneuverability at high speeds. When you're done, tell me, and I'll test the remote drive. See if I can get it back without you having to do anything. [ handy, for when an agent inevitably goes down or abandons the tech he worked very hard to make nice, thanks. ]
Do try and bring it back in one piece. [ quipped as he extends his hand, helmet hooked on his fingertips. ]